


Glitter and Gold

by milkbag_03



Category: Banana Bus Squad, The Misfits (Podcast), gbg
Genre: 1950s Slang, Alchemy, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Major Character Injury, Murder Mystery, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkbag_03/pseuds/milkbag_03
Summary: 24-year-old Jonathan Smith is like no other detective the LAPD had seen since the days of the infamous 'Mr. Sark’. He thought his career would go smoothly, that one day he'd be able to settle down with his fiance and grow old.But when a sudden series of murders abruptly take place at the heart of the city, Jonathan is thrown into a business he should've simply left behind. With the sudden mayhem of killings linking itself into an elusive substance, the Detective is forced to race to the finish, before his perfect world comes crashing down.All for the flashing cameras, the champagne and drugs, but above it all, for the glitter and gold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ayee welcome to the new series
> 
> i spent about like 2-3 months planning this fic, i think??? it was sooo much fun to research and plan and just eee i can't wait to write more !!
> 
> i hope you all enjoy the first chapter to this story, which will get bumpier as time passes! 
> 
> if you manage to find put what's happening/what it might center around (since one of the scenes gives a major clue) please message me on Tumblr, i'd love to hear you guys thought on it! I can be found at @ashes-2-cashes on Tumblr

Smoke rose into the cloudy afternoon sky, a thin layer of rain covering the dirty sidewalks as automobiles sped by and people yelled 'hallos’ across the street. Men in coats and caps strolled by, shoes shining and boots muddy as they walked past each other in the streets. Both women in aprons and those submerged in jewels and rubies chattered in the shops, bright eyes sparkling and ruby lips gossiping.

 

A man in a beige coat that blew behind him strolled through the Los Angeles streets, hands in his pockets and a cigarette resting between chapped lips. The ‘Hollywood’ sign overlooked the active city like an angel as the man walked into a coffee shop, dropping the cigar and crushing it under his heel before waiting in line for his coffee. As he got to the counter, he gave the man on the other side a lopsided smile as he looked behind him to make sure he was the last one. The man taking his order leaned against the table, elbows propping his head up as he rested his chin against the palms of his hands and gave the taller a sultry smile.

 

“Good afternoon there, Detective Jonathan. What can I get for you on this gloomy day?”

 

“Afternoon, Evan. I'll have the usual.”

 

“Colombian roast with a butter croissant. Seriously, don't you ever get tired of that? Wouldn't you. .”

 

Evan leaned forward on the counter, palms coming to rest against the marble underneath him as his eyes went half-lidded and a hungry look filled his eyes. He stood upon his tiptoes as he got close, brown eyes blinking flirtatiously. Jonathan grinned and leaned down, their faces a mere centimeters apart as the younger giggled softly.

 

“. . want something sweeter? Maybe someone who can warm you up on this chilly day. .”

 

“Maybe later, sweetheart. I'm on duty right now.”

 

“It'll be quick. Wouldn't you want that detective? My pink lips wrapped around your long, hard--”

 

“ _Evan!_ ”

 

The Canadian groaned as they landed back on their feet, turning to look at a man with his sleeves rolled up and a black apron tied around him. His brown hair was shaved on either side, the top left long and slicked back with grease as he glared at the younger. Evan pouted and crossed his arms, throwing an innocent glare at the detective as the older chuckled.

 

“Good afternoon, Brock. How are you?”

 

“I'm great. And yourself?”

 

“As well.”

 

“God, Brock, you need to stop treating me like an ankle-biter. I'm 19!”

 

“What I ought to do is send you to the cooler, see if the daddy-o of a boyfriend you claim to have teaches you some manners.”

 

“Fiance, not boyfriend.”

 

Jonathan threw his head back and laughed as Evan blushed darkly and pushed past the older male and into the small kitchen, preparing Jonathan's order as he always did. Brock shook his head and smiled playfully, going up to Jonathan and slightly leaning against the counter as the taller took a seat at the table besides.

 

“That kid is really cruisin’ for a bruisin’, don't you think?”

 

“Trust me, by 20, he'll straighten himself out. How's Brian?”

 

“He's doing much better, currently on Cloud 9 with the new leather jacket you got him.”

 

Jonathan chuckled and watched as Evan brought out his order on a tray, placing a steaming cup of coffee before him alongside a warm buttery croissant. The Canadian male grabbed two more mugs from the tray, handing Brock the hot cocoa while grabbing the other for himself and settling down on his fiance's lap. Jonathan rested his chin on the younger's shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist, smiling softly as Brock winked at the two lovers.

 

“So, have you planned the wedding?”

 

The next half hour was spent laughing and planning, Evan practically bouncing up and down as he thought of the day that was no more than a month away. However, their happiness was quickly disturbed as Jonathan received an urgent callback, causing him to down his lukewarm coffee and shove the rest of his food into his mouth. Evan stood and stopped Jonathan before he rushed out, giving him a soft smile and fixing his shirt collar and tie. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to the younger's lips, whispering a soft 'I love you’ before rushing out into the young reckless city.

 

Flagging down a cab, he waited in the back seat of the car as the driver managed to weave around traffic, stopping before the city hall. Throwing some coins at the man, Jonathan pushed past the reporters clustered at the entrance, whose notepads and pens were nearly threatening him into answering.

 

“Detective Smith, what do you know about the recent murder of the man found in the alleyway?”

 

“Rumors claim that there is a serial killer on the loose, can you confirm these, sir?”

 

“Mr. Smith, others speculate that this is a crime committed by Russian spies, what are your thoughts on this?”

 

The detective thought he'd go mad, _delirious_ if those damn reporters asked one more goddamn que-

 

“Alright, everyone, you've had your fun. Now bug off, before you're forced to, dig it?”

 

Jonathan let out a breath of relief he didn't know he had been holding back at his assistant and trainee walked down the stairs, hands in his pockets and dirty brown hair slicked back with grease. Icy blue eyes glared at the reporters, who almost immediately backed away as Jonathan hurried up the steps to meet the much taller male. He turned and followed the detective back inside, nudging him with his elbow as people stopped to look at both of them with a mixture of hatred, greed, and admiration.

 

“You're digging your nails into your hand again.”

 

The older looked down to see he had been, immediately unclenching his hand and looking at the deep creases left behind that bled just a few drops of blood. He sighed and wiped his hand on his coat, winding around hallways and going upstairs to his office.

 

“So what's this all about?”

 

“A man was found dead in an alleyway near Downtown.”

 

“Was he shot or beat?”

 

“Neither, sir. The cause of death was due to his stomach bursting from the inside out.”

 

The detective stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the younger with a look of bewilderment and a side of humour. The other could only shrug his head as he jutted his chin out, motioning to the end of the hall where Jonathan's office awaited. He hesitantly kept walking, not missing a beat as his trainee gave him a side look.

 

“Spontaneous Human Combustion? Tyler, you do realize that SHC is nothing but propaganda to scare the people, right?”

 

“Whether it's real or fake, we don't know. All we know is that a man is dead and they're calling you in to investigate. I have to warn you though, the scene is rather raunchy.”

 

“You know I've seen worse.”

 

In less than half an hour, Jonathan had gone over the proper procedures to continue his investigation and was soon walking out of the hall alongside Tyler. The taller stopped at the top of the stairs outside, watching as his trainer walked towards the black convertible.

 

Jonathan radiated success, his posture upright and his dark blue eyes an ocean of mystery. His pale skin seemed to glow in the cloudy day, and his black hair was combed back with a bit of grease. His long beige coat rippled with the wind and his every movement, polished shoes glistening as he stepped into the car. Tyler smiled a bit and rushed after him, getting into the backseat with the older and looking out the window. Despite the clouds, sunlight seeped through, framing the older man's face, almost like a gold frame holding a masterpiece.

 

' _One day, I'll succeed. One day, I'll grow to be more than him, and when that day comes, I'll make sure to make him proud.’_

* * *

When they got to the scene of the crime, the Detective pushed past journalists and reporters huddling outside the tape surrounding the alleyway. Above the suffocating mass of people, he could feel the glare of other officers and detectives on his back, boring holes in him from jealousy. He could practically hear the angry whispers as he brought the collar of his coat higher, covering his cheeks as he moved under the tape and into the dark alley.

 

_“That's Jonathan Smith, isn't it? I heard he's the youngest officer ever picked to be detective after Sark.”_

 

 _“There were so many others, what made_ **_him_ ** _so much better?”_

 

_“The captain treats him like a god, while the rest of us are treated like royal shaft. He didn't even fight in the war!”_

 

_“I bet he's a spy sent by the Reds.”_

 

Tyler threw a glare at the officers, who only reacted due to his towering height rather than rank. He fell in step besides his teacher and wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming scent that filled his nose. Rotten food, blood, beer and piss caused him to stop and gag, covering his nose and mouth as his eyes scanned the scene. Even Jonathan had to stop to cover his face, standing a few feet away from the blood covered body. He turned to an officer who looked like he was ready to upchuck his lunch.

 

“What's his story?”

 

“There isn't much known about him. He was found about an hour ago by the owner of the building, and no one has stepped up to claim the bo-”

 

“Hey, wait! You can’t go in there! Ben, stop them!”

 

Jonathan turned just in time to see two males printing towards them, the older looking one being shoved to a wall by an officer. The second was stopped by Tyler, who glared at the rather short man and yelled something about trespassing. It was only until he felt Jon put his hand on his shoulder that he quieted down, holding the man’s hands behind his back. The detective looked at the man who struggled, brown eyes blown wide and tears streaming down their face.

 

“Sir, do you know this man?”

 

“Yes! Please let me go, I need to see him!”

 

“Alright, just take a breath. Ben, let that man go. You too, Tyler.”

 

Upon letting go, both males rushed to the body, not caring if the blood soaked through their clothes. The younger suddenly let out a loud wail, pulling the person up and hugging them tight. Eyes scrunched tight as he buried his face into the shoulder of the dead man, the other besides him burying his face into the mass of dirty black hair. Jonathan let them cry for a good while, pulling out a cigarette and waiting for them even after the other officers retreated to control the press.

 

After a while, when the two men were calm enough to walk, they were escorted out of the alleyway and back to the police station, where they were led into an interrogation room and given some bland coffee to soothe their nerves. From the other side of the viewing mirror, Jonathan was finishing his cigarette and putting out what else was left of it. Tyler stood besides him, arms crossed as he examined both males who were covered in dry blood and holding hands on top of the table, the older running his thumb against the other’s knuckles.

 

“Do you think it might be them?”

 

“I know it’s not them. The taller works in construction and the shorter helps down at the farmers market. None of them have pyrotechnics training.”

 

“You never know if they’re spies.”

 

“It’s been 3 years since the war, plus, they were both rejected from the army due to disabilities.”

 

Tyler shrugged his shoulders as the older scanned their faces for a bit, before running a hand through his hair and walking to the door. Letting his hand rest on the handle, he turned to the younger with a grin on his face and his blue eyes sparkling as he grabbed two spare blankets off the table besides the door.

 

“Watch and learn, kiddo.”

 

Tyler rolled his eyes as Jon chuckled and walked into the cold room, closing the door behind himself and giving the two men a smile. They both weakly returned it as he handed them the sheets, to which they gratefully took them and wrapped it around themselves. Jonathan pulled out the chair and sat before them, leaning forward and crossing his arms upon the table.

 

“How are you two holding up? Need more coffee?”

 

“If it had more sugar, maybe.”

 

Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle as he motioned at Tyler from the other side of the glass for another cup of coffee for the two men. Turning back, he cleared his throat before starting what he could already feel was about to become a long investigation.

 

“Why don’t we start by introducing ourselves? My name is Jonathan Smith, but you can call me Jon. I’ll be the detective handling this case. What about you, the tall one?”

 

“My name’s Lui Calibre. I was lo- associates with David.”

 

“And I’m Arlan Sanchez.”

 

“Alright, well why don’t you two tell me how you both know David?”

 

Arlan glanced over at Lui with worried eyes, turning his gaze downward as he fiddled with a loose string from the blanket. The older sighed and stayed quiet, before leaning forward and letting his arms rest upon the cold surface of the table. Jonathan waited patiently, resting his elbows on the tabletop and examining them closely from behind clasped hands. Blue eyes dashed between them both, before meeting the dark brown ones of the older male sitting across from him. Somewhere behind him the door opened and in came Tyler, carrying two cups of coffee which he placed down quietly before stepping out to let Jonathan do his work.

 

“We uh. . we've known David for a few years now. I first met him when I worked a job down at the port. He was just getting off a ferry from Ireland and he was asking directions to a friends house. Since then he always came back to chat, and one day he uh. . well. . he asked me out for lunch.”

 

“After a few lunches I asked if I could invite someone along, and that's when Arlan met him. They easily hit it off, and we've been friends since then.”

 

“And how long ago was this, might I ask?”

 

“5 years. He came to Los Angeles in ‘43.”

 

Jonathan nodded and took a notepad and pen from his breast pocket, flipping it open and scribbling notes onto it. He looked over another note marked with a bright red pen before glancing up slightly. He noticed Arlan fidgeting with a grey ring on his finger, examining closely as Lui placed his hand on top of the other's shoulder to stop him. He caught sight of an almost identical ring on his own finger as he cleared his throat and leaned back.

 

“Was he rich?”

 

“No, he worked two jobs. One at the old church and another at the library.”

 

“Well, was he dating someone, possibly married?”

 

“David wasn't seeing anyone.”

 

The detective stared at Lui, who bit his lip after his small outburst and looked away. Jonathan had to hold back a grin as he continued, swinging his leg up and letting his ankle rest upon his knee.

 

“You know, there's a lot of dolly's out there who are having their husbands squibbed off for having affairs. Are you sure he wasn't secretly married? He _did_ have a ring on.”

 

Seeing the anger and suspicion rise in their eyes caused a feeling of satisfaction to rain over him as Lui clenched and unclenched his hand repeatedly. Arlan simply shook his head and drank his coffee, trying to swallow down the fear rising in his throat as he attempted to stop his hands from shaking. Knowing he was close to getting _something_ , he continued, ignoring the way the room was silent and tense.

 

“Did he live with you?”

 

“No. He lived in his own apartment with two of his dogs. We didn't really see him all that often.”

 

“So. . if he didn't live with you, and you claim to have not seen him often, then how do you know if he wasn't killed by a crazy chick?”

 

“Because w-”

 

“We were married. Is that what you wanted to hear, you son of a bitch? David Nagle was our husband. What else do you want?”

 

The younger looked around, at the door, at the window, the ceiling, anywhere but the piercing blue eyes. Arlan was beyond terrified, his fingertips getting cold as he had a vice grip on the seat of the chair. Lui placed his head in his hands, hiding his face as he felt bile rising in his throat. He didn't know what the detective would do, he didn't even _know_ if he supported people like him, and not knowing made him even more cautious. He'd survived kicks and blows, escaped shots and mobs, but had never felt so vulnerable in such a tiny room with no other exit than the one behind the officer. Lui felt shame rising in the pit of his stomach, before turning into a feeling of confusion at hearing Jonathan chuckle.

 

“You don't have to worry about telling me. I'm just like you.”

 

Looking up, both males stared at the detective's pale hand, which had a rose gold promise ring on his finger. The shit eating grin on his face nearly caused Lui to lounge at him and yell obscenities for nearly traumatizing both of them. But instead, he felt a smile come to him as he nodded slowly, reaching over and finally, _finally_ holding Arlan's hand with more confidence.

 

“Your secret is safe with my apprentice and I. However, there's a lot more I need to ask of you two, and you need to make sure to tell me _everything_. Every little detail is important, so we can bring some type of peace to your late husband. Will you or will you not cooperate with me?”

 

“We will.”

 

“Great. Now, let's do this.”

* * *

 

After nearly 5 hours of interrogations and negotiations, Lui and Arlan were released and sent home on a private cab nearly the back of the station to avoid the hungry press. Jonathan groaned as he plopped down on his chair in his office, the dark brown oak table covered entirely in notes, papers, manila folders, books, pens, and a slightly empty ashtray. Tyler laid on a leather couch to the right of the desk, limbs outstretched on the rather long sofa. He had his right arm slung over his eyes, the left one dangling over the side of the couch and touching the tiles below.

 

They stayed quiet for a while longer before Jonathan turned his chair towards the younger and smiled tiredly.

 

“How about we drop the investigation for tonight and just head home? If I remember correctly, you have date night with Kelly tonight, no?”

 

“Yeah, if I leave right now I might even still have a chance to stop by the flower shop and grab her a couple of roses.”

 

“Then let's blow.”

 

Both men quickly pulled on their jackets, whilst Jonathan froze before turning and rummaging around his messy desk. Tyler fixed his tie at the sink near the corner of the room, glancing at the reflection of Jonathan grabbing a couple of papers and stuffing them into a yellow folder. He turned just as the older turned off his lamp and pulled on his hat, nodding towards the door as Tyler followed. They both walked down the still bustling police station and out the glass doors, reaching the stairs and taking a moment to stretch. The taller checked his pocket watch and smiled, before starting to head down the stairs.

 

“You takin’ a cab, Jon?”

 

“You know I like taking walks during this time, kiddo.”

 

“Suit yourself then. Oh, by the way, Kelly wanted me to remind you to tell Evan that the baby owl he brought to her last week is recovering quickly and should be able to be let out in a few weeks.”

 

“I’ll let him know. Goodnight, Tyler.”

 

They waved farewells to each other before walking the opposite ways, Tyler heading to a flower shop whilst Jonathan headed home. He strolled with the folder underneath his arm and his hands buried in his pockets, breathing in the warm air of the slowly darkening day. Shops and restaurants started to turn their lights on one by one, letting soft, golden rays wash over the pavements. Street lights turned on a few moments later, bathing the streets in light as Hollywood glowed bright against the dark blue sky. He greeted a couple of people once in a while and winked at the young ladies with bright red lips and pretty dresses, smiling as they giggled and whispered amongst each other.

 

Upon taking a corner, he bumped into a young kid no older than 12, with black slacks and a milky white sleeveless knitted vest over a rolled up button down shirt. His bright brown eyes stared up t him, about to yell something out, but that flew out the window as soon as they realized who they bumped into. A wide, childish grin came upon his features as Jon returned the smile and ruffled his already messy hair.

 

“Hey there, Joe, how’s tricks?”

 

“It’s been good, Detective! I just got back from Bryce’s house, he had some really cool collection cards he wanted to trade with me.”

 

“Sounds like fun. You’ve been stayin’ out of trouble, buddy?”

 

“Mhm! I even got 5 gold stars in class!”

 

The older man was about to congratulate him before something caught his attention. A few feet away, where the street lights were dim and the pubs were dark and closed was a bright flash of white light in an alleyway, the distant sound of electricity rushing through the spring air. When it happened again, he placed both hands on Joe’s shoulders and looked at him dead in the eyes, a serious tone taking over his usually chippy voice.

 

“I need you to do me a favour. Take the brightest way home and don’t, and I mean _don’t_ take shortcuts through the alleys tonight, got it?”

 

“Will do, mister.”

 

“Good. I’ll see you later, Joe.”

 

“Goodnight Mister Jonathan!”

 

As soon as the kid ran off through the bustling streets, the detective was jogging towards the alleyway, pulling out a small revolver from his pocket and pressing his back against the wall. The hair on the back of his neck rose as a wave of electricity hit him, shielding his eyes from the bright white flash that erupted from within the alley. Taking a deep breath in, he turned and pointed his gun, locking eyes on a figure with a long coat and hood pulled over their face. Upon hearing the detective’s footsteps, they turned in surprise and looked both ways before suddenly sprinting to the right, ignoring the other’s yells to stop.

 

Cursing under his breath, he ran after them, gripping the gun tightly. As he rounded the corner, he was met with a faceful of a brick wall. He groaned as he fell backwards, holding his now bloody nose as blue eyes looked at the wall that was **not** there a few moments before. Jonathan pushed himself off the filthy pavement and ran his hands across the rough bricks, trying to find a secret door, but to his surprise, found nothing of the sort. He could feel a heavy gaze on his back, and turning his head up, saw a dark figure squatting at the edge of the roof, face covered by the shadow of their hood as the rest of their long coat blowed in the wind. As soon as he was about to yell something, the figure was gone, leaving Jonathan stunned in the middle of a piss smelling alleyway and a bloody nose.

 

To say Evan was worried was an understatement. His fiance was _freaking_ out in their small kitchen, asking a million questions whilst his held a cold cloth to his nose. Jonathan tried to play it off cooly, only to receive a small smack from the younger as the Canadian scolded him for being so reckless. He only ended up quieting down when Jonathan pulled him onto his lap and kissed him sweet, running his hand along the other’s waist gently with a goofy smile on his face.

 

“I don’t deserve you, my love. You’re so kind and beautiful, and you ended up picking me, the weird kid from school, to fall in love with.”

 

“Well, I think my choice was the best. Plus, Tyler, Brock, Brian, you and I have practically been stuck at each other’s hips for so long, it was just a matter of time.”

 

Jonathan chuckled as Evan laughed and wrapped his arms around his neck, smiling sweetly as he ran one of his hands along Jon’s black hair and pushed it away from his forehead. Leaning in, the older caught his boyfriend’s lip in a deep kiss, and soon, hands were roaming and groping, teeth nipping at any exposed skin and leaving marks only they would see. A trail of clothes slowly formed from the kitchen to the bedroom, where breathless gasps and pretty moans left bruised lips and blunt nails left marks upon pale backs.

 

The detective found himself laying on his back a half hour later, rubbing his hand along the younger’s bare arm and kissing the top of his sweaty black hair, messy and sticking up everywhere. Evan hummed softly against the other man’s bare chest, tracing imaginary patterns along his stomach and listening to his heartbeat. Just as they started drifting off to sleep, there was a loud knock at the door that caught both of them by surprise. The older sat up and told his fiance to wait, before slipping into his boxers and pants and plodding towards the door. He was met with Tyler standing before the door, arms crossed and looking at him with a mixture of drowsiness and seriousness.

 

“Tyler? What are you doing here so late?”

 

“Sorry to ruin your night, but we just got called in.”

 

“At this time? What was so important they couldn’t wait ‘till tomorrow?”

 

“Jonathan, there’s been another murder.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be a short chapter
> 
> which i got carried away with lmao

Bright red lights flashed behind Jonathan, lighting up the night sky and attracting the attention of everyone nearby. Normal, adhesive tape was placed before the door to the rundown building, whilst policemen walked around the crime scene carefully and collected data and possible clues. Women in nightgowns gazed out their windows, faces of young kids barely peeping over the window sills as they watched with fascination. Men had coats over their own night gartments, peering past the police and trying to catch a glance of the commotion inside. Tyler had his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the body near his feet, the face of a young man staring up at him with haunting, lifeless eyes and pale arms crossed over his chest. Jonathan sighed and scanned the scene, his breath coming out as a puff of visible air.

 

“His name’s John Kryder, barely 21 years old.” said Tyler quietly, feeling a chill run up his spine as he pulled his jacket closer to himself. Jonathan nodded slowly as he came to stand besides Tyler, rubbing the younger’s back soothingly.

 

“So this guy moved from alleyways to abandoned buildings. How does that make sense?”

 

“Maybe he knew disposing of the body in an alleyway would be too risky.” answered Tyler, thanking Jon quietly before moving around the dead man slowly and looking at the cadaver up and down. Jonathan shook his head and brought his hand up to chew on his thumb, eyes glazed over as he went deep into thought. Slowly, all noise around him faded out, leaving him with nothing but a soft hum inside him as it slowly filled his head and ears. Suddenly, his eyes shot up at Tyler as the younger yelled over his shoulder for a flashlight and rubber gloves, which he quickly took before kneeling down and moving it around the dead man. The soft hum suddenly left, and all the noise came rushing back to Jonathan as he shook his head and kneeled on the other side of the corpse.

 

“What did you see?”

 

“Jon. . his eyes.”

 

The detective looked puzzled for a moment before Tyler pulled down the skin under the man’s eyes, watching with disgust as the eyeball fell out and landed somewhere near Jonathan’s feet. Tyler looked like he was ready to puke, however, swallowed his disgust as his gaze went to the pale, bloody hands. With careful movements, he turned the man’s hands upward and looked away for a second. Jonathan peered over and stood up with a sigh and shake of his head.

 

The skin of the man’s palms had been scrapped clean off, leaving nothing but bloody muscle behind with a few pieces of mutilated skin barely hanging on. Tyler stood and excused himself for a moment, slipping the gloves off and heading outside, leaving the older man by himself. He took out his little pocketbook and started writing down clues, scribbling and scratching different things off, continuing even after a team had come to collect the body and  Tyler came back in.

 

“What did you get?” asked Tyler, looking at the blood puddle left behind by the body. Jon ignored him for a few moments, before looking back up with tired eyes.

 

“Did you notice his eyes?”

 

“Uh, of course I did. It was disgusting.”

 

“Not that you dope. I meant his eyebags. They were way too dark for a healthy man his age.” replied the detective, causing Tyler to hesitate before slowly nodding. Nudging his head outside, both men walked to the front, Jonathan continuing explaining his findings.

 

“Not only were his eyes practically scooped out, and his palms scraped off, but think about where his body was dumped.”

 

“An abandoned mattress store. . “ mumbled the younger, stopping as his eyebrows scrunched up.

 

“Bingo. Now think back to the man we found earlier.”

 

“His stomach burst from the inside out, and he was found in an alleyway, _behind a restaurant_.”

 

Jonathan nodded as they both hurried to a Tyler’s car, opening the doors and settling inside. Tyler drove them back to the station, hands gripping the wheel as started putting everything together. The Los Angeles streets were empty at night, save for a few workers heading to or from work and delivery trucks making nightly runs to bars nearby. Jonathan stared out the window to the damp streets, the light from street lamps shining on his face every few seconds as they drove underneath their shine.

 

“So these murders are based off sins?”

 

“Sounds like. David's murder seems connected with the sin of Gluttony and John's with the sin of Sloth."

 

“Could it be affiliated with religion? The most recent one did have his hands crossed.” Tyler pointed out, taking a left turn on the bumpy road as he cursed under his breath.

 

“Maybe. The first victim did have a cross on him and volunteered at a church. Arlan also said that he never missed mass on sundays.”

 

Before he could say more, they arrived at the station, still bustling with activity even deep into the night. Both men got out and walked up the stairs, stopping dead in their tracks when they reached the top. Standing before a crowd of reporters were two men dressed in pristine suits, wearing badges that were not from the LAPD. The shortest of the two wore a light brown sheepskin jacket, notebook tucked carefully under his arm as his hazel-green eyes met Jonathan’s. He nudged a slightly taller man besides him, whose black hair was hidden underneath a light brown trilby hat, wearing a matching trench coat that was closed with small dark brown belt around his waist. The man grinned devilishly, tilting his head back a tiny bit and squaring his shoulders.

 

Jonathan glared and clenched his hands into a fist, trudging his way towards the crowd and pushing his way to the front, Tyler hot on his heels. The tallest of the newcomers couldn’t help the grin that stayed on his lips as he gave them a small nod of acknowledgement, whilst the shorter stuck his hand out towards Jonathan, a small smile on his lips. Hesitantly, Jonathan shook the man’s hand, crossing his arms soon after and glaring at the male besides the hazel-eyed as the reporter crowded around them and captured the image of both men having a stand off with their gazes.

 

“What’s the score?”

 

“Jon, there’s ears.”

 

The detective stopped, before pushing past the older man before him, shoulder bumping harshly against the stranger as the three male followed him into the brightly lit station. They closed the door tightly behind them as the wave of reporters shouted loud, demanding answers to their repetitive questions. Jonathan made sure to lead them to his office, ignoring the innocent ‘hello’s from coworkers and earning confused looks in return. Soon, he was standing before a door with his name engraved on a golden plaque on it, opening the heavy door and letting the men in before closing tightly behind himself.

 

“What business brings you here?"

 

“You haven’t heard? Let’s just say your commissioner put out a little. . “invite”  for detectives to come visit and take a look at the murders.”

 

“Oh, go kiss a duck. Commissioner Montoya trusts me more than anyone in the LAPD. Now either cut the crap and state why you’re really here or go climb up your thumb.” snapped Jon, leaving the black haired man to look at him from his peripheral vision as he held a copy of _The Sound of Murder_ in his hand, taken from somewhere on Jonathan’s bookshelf. Sighing, the man put the book back and turned to face the younger man, eyebrow raised as his hands rested lazily in his pockets.

 

“I should probably introduce myself before anything. My name’s Luke Patterson, I’m a detective from the Greensboro Police Department. And this,” Luke said, motioning with his chin towards the man who had accompanied him. “is Ryan Wrecker, homicide detective from the Chicago P.D.”

 

“It's a pleasure to meet such a brilliant detective as yourself, Mr. Smith.” Ryan mentioned, a bright look in his eyes as he walked to stand besides Luke.

 

“Please, call me Jonathan.”

 

“Will do.” replied the man with hazel eyes, the same shy, soft smile on his lips. Jonathan turned to Luke when the taller cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder.

 

“No offense, but tell your guard dog to stand down. We’re not here to cause any trouble.”

 

Jonathan sighed and turned to face Tyler, waving his hand in a dismissal motion as the younger hesitantly sat down on the couch and crossed his arms, glare slowly falling and leaving him looking more serious than mad. Turning back to face Luke, Jon walked around and sat behind his desk on the chair he had been in no more than 3 hours ago, motioning for the newcomers to take a seat on the two stools before him.

 

“I’m guessing you’ll be here a while, so tell me. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

 

Luke sighed and plopped down in his seat, crossing his arms and leaning back slightly. Ryan cleared his throat and handed his leather-bound notebook to Jonathan, setting his hands down on his lap and watching as the younger male slowly opened the book and flipped to the first page. The paper had some newspaper clippings taped on it, pen scribbles lining the parchment in cursive letters that took Jon a moment to get. As he got deeper and deeper into the book, he started seeing pictures of a small town, labeled with the year _1940_ , and other photographs with nothing on them except the plains, labeled _1946_.

 

“We’re here on an investigation. About a year or two ago, when I was first assigned to work with Luke, we got a call to interrogate a young man found wandering the edge of the city, barefoot and disoriented. He had collapsed before a store and police were called in to arrest him, but then he started mumbling some weird things.”

 

“What do you mean weird things?” questioned Jonathan, showing Tyler the notebook as they examined each photograph carefully.

 

“He means that this kid started mumbling nonsense. Something about his town having been sacrificed by an almighty being who had promised him power, and that now, he had their souls trapped inside him. He was nuts, and kept begging for us to put him out of his misery. Of course we refused.” piped in Luke, throwing his left ankle over his right knee and sighing tiredly before continuing, “Not even a day later, the kid had knocked out our best men and escaped. For two years we’ve been looking for him, and apparently was recently spotted somewhere around Los Angeles.”

 

Jonathan glanced back up at the two men with curious eyes, setting the book back down on the flat surface and watching as the detectives exchanged a glance between themselves before looking back at him.

 

“If he was just nuts, then why have you been looking for him after all this time? Surely he was just speaking slander.”

 

“That’s the thing. . when we went to check the town out for ourselves, there was nothing.” Luke said, a blank look overcoming his chocolate brown eyes.

 

“Nothing? What does that mean?” Hazel eyes turned to look at Tyler, blinking before looking back down at his research and pointing at the photos taped on.

 

“It means there was literally nothing. The town was gone, and all that was left were ruins of what used to be homes and businesses. The kid wasn’t trying to flim-flam us, something really happened to that town and he’s the only one with reliable information.”

 

Tyler froze and stared at them with wide, questioning eyes, glancing back at the black and white photographs and letting his fingers ghost over the images. Jonathan leaned forward in his seat, looking at Luke, then at Ryan, and when he couldn’t find anything in their looks that could suggest them lying, leaned back in his chair and let the silence overcome them.

 

“Was he religious?” asked Jonathan. Luke stared up at him before shrugging his shoulders.

 

“From the encounters he has had with others, he seems to have evolved. People claim he preaches of a so called ‘Promised Day’ in which he will become God and rule the land alongside his ‘children’. Why do you ask?”

 

“We also have a case on our hands right now, and let me say that between both of ours, I don’t think their very much apart. So let me offer you this, in exchange for your help, we’ll help you find your guy. How does that sound?”

 

Luke looked over at Ryan with a brow raised, both men standing up and excusing themselves to the far corner of the room. They whispered between each other, glancing at the two younger men before looking at each other. Jonathan seemed to wait patiently, but inside, he was a nervous wreck. He knew he and Tyler would need their help in finding their killer, and if the other two refused to help, his reputation might just be doomed. Finally, they walked back to the desk in tense silence, letting it sit for a few seconds before Luke held his hand out to Jonathan and grinned.

 

“It’s a pleasure to be working with you, Detective Smith.”

 

“Likewise, Detective Patterson.”

* * *

Jonathan couldn’t help the long yawn he let out, stretching his arms above his head and groaning as bones popped. Tyler was slumped on the couch, head tilted back and with an open book resting on top of his face, muffling his snores a bit. Luke sat before Jon, tired eyes scanning endless parchment papers with names as Ryan was trying his hardest to stay awake, nodding off a bit before jolting up and repeating the process until he finally laid his head to rest on his arms. Early morning sunlight spilt into the office from the half open window, birds happily chirping in the trees and people chatting as they strolled by.

 

“What time is it?” asked Luke groggily, looking up at Jonathan who glanced at the table clock resting on top of a bunch of books. He squinted, rubbing tired blue eyes before checking once more and sighing.

 

“6 a.m on the dot.”

 

The older man groaned and dropped his head on the table, slightly slamming it and causing Ryan to once again jolt up and look around in a panicked state, hazel eyes trying to blink away the sleepiness. Luke sighed and patted the other’s knee, mumbling something about calming down before standing up and stretching. Jonathan also stood up and trudged over to Tyler, lightly kicking the younger’s leg and watching as he blinked slowly and sat up with a small groan of pain. Tyler glanced up at his teacher and rubbed his face, standing up and plodding towards the sink.

 

“Did you guys sleep?”

 

“Might’ve dozed off for a few minutes, besides that, not really. You knocked out three hours later, Tyler.”

 

“Pipe down.”

 

Jonathan chuckled as he waited for Tyler to finish using the sink before turning it back on to a lukewarm temperature, cupping his hands to fill them with water before throwing it onto his face and hair. He didn’t care that the water wet his wrinkled dress shirt, sighing as he stared into his reflection in the mirror and watched as the droplets of water ran down his face and dripped onto the porcelain sink below his hands. Grabbing a towel hanging besides said mirror, he dried himself off, before letting Luke and Ryan wash themselves off as well, throwing the now slightly wet towel at them once they were done.

 

“Come on, let’s go bite an egg. I know a good place.”

 

Stepping into the city outside, Ryan squinted in the bright sun and shielded his eyes, scrunching them up and groaning. Luke turned to look at him and frowned in worry, taking off his trilby hat and placing it on the other’s head to block the bright sunlight from his eyes. Jonathan couldn’t help but stare at Ryan in slight confusion, turning to look back at the eldest man when he guided the other down the stairs and into the bustling streets.

 

“Is he swell?”

 

“He has this thing called visual snow syndrome. You know how the television has those white static like dots?”

 

“Yeah."

 

“He basically sees those in his vision, and because of this, he’s sometimes really sensitive to the light and his vision only gets worse during nighttime.”

 

Ryan sternly shushed the taller male, looking down onto the dirty pavement quietly whilst pulling the hat down more to try and hide himself. Tyler groaned and turned around, walking backwards in order to see them.

 

“You act like that’s batty. As long as you’re able to do your job both acceptably and professionally, there’s nothing you need to worry about. We all have flaws we try to hide.”

 

Luke huffed a small laugh as he stared down at the shorter male besides him, patting his back gently before looking back up.

 

“That’s what I’ve been telling him but he just doesn’t seem to get it through that thick conk of his.”

 

Jonathan rolled his eyes with a smile as he flagged down a cab, telling the driver where he wanted to go before piling in with the rest of them. They waited in silence as the man weaved slowly around the busy city, driving past bustling sidewalks and booming stores. After a while, he stopped in front of the cafe store Evan worked at and let them get out, whilst Jonathan paid him and told him to keep the change. As he turned around, he saw Tyler walk in before all of them, yelling for Evan with a bright smile on his young face, Ryan right behind him.

 

Luke stood outside looking up at the building, eyes scanning over the big pale pink letters lined with baby blue, which read _Moo’s Cafe and Bakery_. Jonathan stood besides him and peered inside, watching with a soft smile as his fiance stepped out to greet Tyler. The older man soon followed the detective inside, taking a deep breath in of the sweet smelling coffee and freshly baked bread.

 

“Damn, what is this place?”

 

“Moo’s Cafe and Bakery.” the younger detective replied sarcastically, earning a light punch to his arm from the grinning man besides him. He couldn’t help the laughter that escaped his lips, instantly catching the attention of his boyfriend, who peered around Tyler and smiled brightly before jogging up to him and throwing his arms around the taller male.

 

“About time you showed up, honey.”

 

“Had lots of work to do, doll.”

 

Evan grinned happily up at the man he loved, before turning to look at Luke who grinned back and winked flirtatiously.

 

“And who’s this pretty little thing?” asked the oldest, brow raised as Evan couldn’t help the light pink blushed that overcame his cheeks. Turning to his fiance, Evan whispered behind his hand, loud enough for both of them to hear.

 

 _“_ _Qui diable est ce gars, Jon?”_

 

Jonathan laughed at the younger’s questions, whilst Luke glanced between both of them, his flirty smile dropping into an awkward one as he watched them exchange a conversation in French.

 

 _“Juste un gars qui a besoin de notre aide, mon amour.”_ Jonathan replied, with a slight accent but fluent, nevertheless.

 

 _“Avec quoi? Mieux ramasser les lignes?”_ Jonathan laughed harder, pinching the bridge of his nose as Evan crossed his arms and arched a brow.

 

 _“Vous savez très bien que je ne mens pas.”_ mumbled the Canadian with a slight pout against pale pink lips.

 

_“Je sais chérie. Je connais.”_

 

Not understanding anything the two men were saying, Luke awkwardly shuffled away to the counter where Tyler and Ryan were sitting, already with a cup of coffee and plate of breakfast before them. He sighed as he sat down besides the Chicagoan and slumped onto his hand, eyes bored as he ordered a single coffee. Ryan watched him from his peripheral vision with a small smile, swallowing the piece of sausage in his mouth before speaking.

 

“How’s tricks?”

 

“Why do people play hard to get?”

 

“Maybe because they’re already interested in someone else.” replied Ryan while taking a sip from his coffee, still watching Luke as he straightened up to receive his own cup.

 

“Yeah, I noticed too. Why are all the cute ones always taken?”

 

Ryan shrugged once more, looking down at his plate as he felt a small pang of jealousy overcome him, disappearing as soon as appeared and leaving him feeling worse than before. From behind him, Evan had watched Luke walk away before turning back to Jonathan, still keeping his arms crossed as his eyes then got worried.

 

“Why didn’t you come home last night? I was waiting for you.”

 

“I’m sorry, doll. There was another murder near Downtown and since Tyler and I are investigating the first death, they called us in to take a look at the recent one and check to see if there were any connections.”

 

“There was a second one? Wasn’t the first once just a few hours earlier?”

 

The taller man nodded as they both walked back to the counter to meet up with the rest, Evan saying something about needing to help Brock before disappearing into the kitchen. Jonathan took a seat between Tyler and Ryan, smiling at a man standing behind the counter with light brown hair and a patch over his left eye, his right one a bright blue-green colour that matched an equally handsome face. The man smiled back at him and leaned onto his folded arm on the table, the empty sleeve on his right side swaying with every movement.

 

“Hey there Brian, what's the damage?” greeted Jonathan with a playful grin as Brian returned the gesture.

 

“Could be better. So what can I get for ye, Johnny boy? Pancakes with some eggs and a side of bacon, or the usual crap you eat?”

 

“Think I’ll go for the pancakes today. You also already know how I like my coffee.”

 

“4 milk, 6 sugar. I’ll let Brocky know about your order now!” said Brian with a handsome smile, walking back the kitchen to put in his order and coming back out. Ryan nudged the younger man slightly, not being able to take his eyes off of Brian, who was busy taking another customer’s order and chatting up the ladies.

 

“I don’t want to seem rude or anything, but what happened to him? He’s missing both an arm and an eye.”

 

“Who, Brian? He fought in the war and was honourably discharged after losing both his left eye and right arm while trying to save his platoon. He’s a real nice guy, despite what he’s been through. I should know, I basically grew up with him.”  

 

The older man besides him slowly nodded, before going back to eating his food. The four officers spent a good while eating breakfast and drinking the coffee that took a few cups before finally getting them to fully wake up. Soon, Luke was asking for a check, wiping his mouth with a paper and sighing contently. Jon got up to pay but stopped as the chattering around him faded, leaving only the soft spring air to blow in his ear and a cold shiver to run up his spine.

 

He suddenly heard a small jingling of windchimes accompanied by a rush of wind in his ears, ringing loudly in his head as he slowly turned. He quickly locked his eyes on a store before Brock’s cafe, the door a blood red that blended into the old brick building and the black numbers next to the entrance reading _407_. Besides it was a huge window looking into the store, but from where he stood, was too hard to see what was inside. All he knew was that something was calling him. The ringing of the windchimes grew louder and louder in his head until suddenly, he felt something tugging at his jacket, causing him to blink and look around in confusion. Jonathan turned to look at Tyler, who had a hand on his shoulder and stared at him with worried eyes.

 

“Hey, you swell? We’ve been calling your name for the past minute and it just looked like you zoned out.”

 

“W-What was I doing?”

 

“I don’t know, you got this weird look on your face when you stood up. Is everything okay?”

 

“Ryan, Luke, you guys come with me. Tyler, stay here, we’ll be back.” the detective ordered, handing Tyler his wallet without a second thought and walking out quickly before anyone could argue. Ryan and Luke looked at each other, slowly getting up and following him out the door and into the busy streets. Ryan squinted in the light, before spotting Jonathan’s figure crossing the street and following after him, squeezing past people walking by.

 

When they were finally able to cross the street, they stood on each side of the younger detective, looking into a store with the dark red door. The display window showed various old books, surrounded by gemstones and candles dripping wax onto gold metal plates underneath them. Velvet curtains framed the large window, the edges lined with gold cloth twisted into a braided pattern and wrapped around the thick blinds. Both men watched as Jon slowly walked towards the door, hand coming to rest against the black knob.

 

Before he twisted it open, he looked up to examine the symbol painted in black paint. It looked like a cross with pointed edges, a snake coiled from the very bottom to the top. Ryan came up besides him to examine the image from close up, letting his hand reach out and ghost over the wood. It was icy cold to the touch, causing him to quickly retreat his hand and look down at his now pale fingertips. Giving his partner a worried glance, he backed away and let his hand travel to his backside, hand gripping the gun hidden underneath the sheepskin jacket before giving Jonathan a nod.

 

With that, the youngest twisted the knob and pushed open the door, watching it swing open and let out an eerie groan that resonated through the store. Stepping in with both Luke and Ryan on his heels, they all stopped dead in their tracks as a wave of energy hit them hard, causing the hairs on their arms and behind their neck to stand up, almost as if a wave of electricity overcame their bodies. Attempting to shake it off, Jonathan stepped further into the room, letting his eyes roam every inch of the place.

 

The store seemed smaller than it did from the outside, shelves nailed to the wall lined with flasks and jars filled with different liquids and herbs. An almost nostalgic smell of fresh rain and forest overcame Jonathan as he looked around quickly, eyes wide with fear as Luke reached out for him.

 

“Hey, hey! Calm down, it’s okay. Look at me, Jon. Look at me!” he ordered, grabbing the younger’s face in his hands and forcing him to look into his eyes. Feeling him slowly start relaxing, he moved his hands down to his shoulders, holding him in a firm as Ryan placed a hand on Jon’s back, worrying etching his face.

 

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting really weird. You know what, let’s just breeze off. Something here is messing with you real bad.”

 

“N-No, we can’t leave. Not yet. Something called to me, I heard it, I _felt_ it. It was like a pull, I-I can’t des-”

 

“Can I help you gentlemen with something?”

 

All three detectives turned simultaniasly to face another man, roughly the same age as Jonathan, with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a white button up shirt and dark green, v-neck sweater vest, dark brown trousers cuffed up at the bottom to reveal shiny black dress shoes. He smiled patiently at the three men with his hands folded neatly before his chest, scanning each of their faces and waiting for one of them to speak. Ryan cleared his throar to speak before being interrupted by Jonathan, who shrugged off Luke’s hands and stepped forward to face the man.

 

“My name is Jonathan Smith, Detective Jonathan Smith. These are my colleagues, Detectives Luke Patterson and Ryan Wrecker. We are here investigating a runaway foreign talent and two murders that occurred, one yesterday and the most recent one in the dead of night.”

 

“Is that so? Well, I’m guessing you’re here for questioning, so let me introduce myself. My name is Scott Charles, but you can call me Scotty, and this is my store.”

 

“If you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you sell in this store?” questioned Luke, turning his head around to view all the different things filling the place. Scotty chuckled and motioned to a shelf on his left side, patting the mahogany with great care.

 

“Oh, you know, just the usual herbs and medicines.”

 

Something about the way he laughed sounded off to Luke, but he shrugged it off as paranoia. Scotty let them to the back of the store, where he pulled out four chairs and set them down for the officers. Jon took a seat in between Luke and Ryan, pulling out his notepad and pen and watching closely as Scotty took his own seat before the three.

 

“Do you know anything about the recent murders?”

 

“I’ve read about the one behind the restaurant in the newspaper. Didn’t know there was another one.” the owner answered truthfully, crossing his leg over the other and leaning back in his chair. Luke took Ryan’s notebook out of a small pocket in his coat and opened it, taking out a picture of both David and John and handing them to the owner. The man took them and examined them closely.

 

“Do you recognize these men?”

 

“Yes. . Yes, I do. This one,” said Scotty, pointing at the picture of David, “came in about a week ago for some medicine. He had a prescription written up for him for some pretty strong medicine, and he didn’t look so good either. Too skinny and weak for his age.”

 

“What about the second one?”

 

Scotty placed the picture of David down on the counter beside him, turning back to look at the black and white picture of the young man given to them by another officer who had gone to give the news to his parents. Scotty nodded once again, causing an uneasy feeling to fill Jonathan’s chest.

 

“He came in about 2 days ago looking for something to help him sleep. I gave him some German chamomile and marigolds before sending him off.”

 

“Do you remember what you might’ve given the first man?” intervened the oldest of the Detectives, looking over Jonathan’s shoulder and looking at his messy scribbles on the notebook.

 

“I can’t remember the exact prescription, but he did ask for other things like dandelion roots and blessed thistle.”

 

“Those are herbs used to lose weight.”

 

Scotty, Jonathan and Luke turned to look at Ryan who cleared his throat and loosened his tie before twiddling his thumbs. He was silent for a few seconds before clearing his throat and talking softly.

 

“I read a lot of medical book when I was a teenager. .”

 

“Well, you’re spot on. Those herbs are in fact used for weight loss. I’m still pretty confused myself as to why he wanted those plants, I mean, he was plenty skinny, maybe even too much.”

 

Their small interview went on for a while longer before Jonathan deemed it enough information As they got up to leave, Scotty escorted the three men to the door but not before Ryan turned and stopped him. Raising a brow, the detective flipped through his leather notebook before finding a picture of the man he and Luke had been looking for and held it up for Scotty to see.

 

“By any chance have you come in contact with this man?”

 

“Yeah, I saw this fucker. Came in yesterday afternoon, mumbling jackshit about a ‘Promised Day’ and how he felt as if I would be a good candidate for his ‘children’. Kicked that nut right out.”

 

“Wait, are you serious? Did you see which way he went? Did he tell you his name, anything at all?” Scotty raised his hands defensively and shook his head, causing Ryan’s shoulders to sag slightly.

 

“Look, the last I saw of him, he ran down a closed alleyway and didn’t come out. When I asked for his name, all he said was to call him ‘Father’, besides that, I don’t have a clue.”

 

“Alright, well thank you for your help. Here’s my number, give me a call if you have anymore information or if that man comes back, okay?”

 

Scotty nodded and took the piece of paper from Jonathan, stuffing it into his pocket carefully and holding the door open for the men. As he was ready to close the door, Jon stopped and held onto the frame, the owner giving him a questioning glance.

 

“One last question. The symbol on your door, was does it mean?”

 

“Oh, this old thing? Well, there are many meaning behind it, but the main one is found in the Bible. When God sent snakes to bite Moses’ people, he later instructed Moses to erect a brass snake on a pole before the people, and all who shall see it were to be cured and live on. To better summarize it, it’s the symbol of life and medicine.”

 

“The Bible. . thank you so much for your time, Scotty.”

 

Scotty simply nodded quietly and watched as the detectives hurried away to the cafe, closing the door slowly and letting the heavy wood close. On the other hand, Jonathan dragged Tyler and the other’s to a table in the corner of the small establishment, settling with his back against the wall and his eyes focused on the three looking at him with confusion.

 

“What the hell did you guys see in there?” asked Tyler, crossing his arms and slouching. Jonathan handed his mini notebook to Tyler, letting him read the notes he scribbled during the interview. The youngest looked over them in silence as Luke started to recap the information they had gotten right at the end.

 

“So we know for a fact that the guy Ryan and I are looking for is here in Los Angeles. Bad thing is, this city is huge. We’ll never find him in time.”

 

“Luke, I don’t think this screwball is simply going around telling crazy stories. This guy might be the killer we’re looking for. Think about it, he’s telling people about a so called ‘Promised Day’ while calling himself ‘Father’.” whispered Jonathan, looking over at Tyler as the younger placed his notebook back down on the table before speaking.

 

“There’s a lot of scriptures in the Bible talking about the rapture. There’s Thessalonians and Corinthians, and Matthew too.”

 

“Well is there a certain date they give out? You know, about when the rapture will occur?” queried Jonathan, having no real background in religion after moving out of his parent’s house. However, Tyler grew up being forced to go to Sunday school, something his mother thought would be a great idea to help him make more friends.

 

“Nope. It states so in Matthew 13:32. No one, not even the angels, know when the rapture will occur, and that only the Father knows.”

 

As the two talked it out, Luke couldn’t help but notice Ryan had zoned out, his eyes flicking back and forth quickly, a habit he had developed when he was deep in thought. Gently shaking his partner, Luke tried to get him to snap out of it, only succeeding enough for the younger man to mumble a barely audible hum.

 

“What’s got you thinking so hard, Ryan?”

 

“That symbol, the one of Scotty’s door. . I can’t shake the feeling off that I’ve seen it somewhere else. . Jonathan, where’s the nearest library? I have a feeling my answer is there.”

 

“Uh, there’s the Central Library, it shouldn’t be more than 5 minutes away from here.” Jonathan informed him as Ryan nodded with a small determined smile.

 

“Then let’s go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's this ?? Another chapter?? In the SAME MONTH??? FROM M E ???
> 
> lmao ive been injured so thats basically the reason why 
> 
> anyways enjoyyyyy uwu

 

“Hello, this is Moo's Cafe and Bakery, home to the sweetest bread and freshest coffee. How may I help ye today?”

 

“Coffee. Now.”

 

“Excuse me?” Brian asked confused, before hearing the way too familiar tired yawn on the other side of the call. Snorting, a grin appeared on his features as he balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder and placed his notepad besides the rotary stand.

 

“Alright, Johnny boy, I hear ye. What ye guys want?”

 

“The strongest coffee you guys have. And food. This gig is going to take us a while.” the detective confessed, hearing Brian hum in approval as the Irishman scribbled something down. After a few more words exchanged, Brian stood up and motioned Brock over, handing him the order and giving the older man a small peck. With a happy smile, the owner was off once again in the kitchen, preparing the order as Brian cleared his throat and leaned against the wall.

 

“Alright, ye order is in. I’ll send Evan over as soon as it’s out.”

 

“Thanks, Brian. You’re a lifesaver.”

 

“Don’t mention it.” With that, Jonathan hung up and walked back inside the library, going to the way back of the huge building and weaving through the towering shelves. He passed giggling children shushing each other as they sat crossed-legged on the ground with a book before them, whispering to each other the words typed across the parchment pages. Young adults stood pondering about the thousands of books before them, eyes twinkling with curiosity as nimble fingers travelled across the spines of the stories. Near the back, old couples sat besides each other on the recliners, enjoying each other’s presence as they took in the old words written for them to enjoy.

 

Soon, he reached a table near the back entrance of the library, stacks on stacks of old books towering above the two figures sitting down. Luke twirled a pen in his hand, watching with fascination as Ryan's eyes practically glided through the pages filled with a language they didn't understand. Catching a glimpse of the younger detective, Luke glanced up at Jonathan and shrugged, pushing the brand new notebook towards him, already halfway filled.

 

“All these books are in latin. Ryan here has been translating anything he can.”

 

Before he could say anything, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud sound of books slamming against a table went off beside him. Tyler groaned and stretched his back, huffing a sigh as he received harsh shushes and glares from the people around. He mumbled an apology and shrugged his shoulders as Jonathan raised a brow at him.

 

“Those are the last books the librarian had on. . whatever we’re looking for. He still wouldn’t say anything, even after I told him the consequences of not aiding an officer.”

 

“With you, I probably wouldn’t say anything either.” Jonathan joked, stepping back quickly with a playful smirk on his face as he just barely avoided getting his arm punched by the glaring teeanger. Ryan glanced up at them from behind thick glasses, glaring as he looked back down to trace the sentences with his finger.

 

“You guys oughta show respect for the other people around here. And stop calling it “whatever”, Tyler. It’s alchemy.”

 

“The earliest form of science and philosophy for our ancestors. Tell me again, why is it in latin? Weren’t the Egyptians the first ones to use this? And isn’t the word ‘alchemy’ itself Arabic?” questioned Luke, earning a sharp hush from Ryan as hazel eyes scanned the yellowing page before turning it to the next, nimble fingers both tracing the words and gripping onto the old leather bounding the pages together.

 

“12th-century Renaissance, the major translation of many works by European scholars trying to learn what they couldn’t in the Western side of Europe during the time.” Jonathan said, followed by a tired yawn as he plopped down on a chair beside Luke.

 

“Christ, how do you guys know all of this crap?” asked Tyler, his head swimming from all the information the oldest of the four had just spewed out of his brain.

 

“I studied history, Tyler. And if I remember right, Ryan studied philosophy, symbolism, and mythology back when he was younger.”

 

“Great, another Einstein. What about you, Patterson? You got as much jets as this nerd over here?” Tyler said as he motioned with his chin at Ryan.

 

Ryan’s face went red as he hid his face behind the stacks of books, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Jonathan pinched Tyler’s arm, earning a quiet yelp of pain from the younger who looked at his mentor with utter confusion. Luke ran his hand up Ryan’s leg and placed it on his thigh gently, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance that had the younger detective blushing darker and moving away hesitantly.

 

“To be completely honest, I don’t have as much brains as Ryan does. Dropped out of school as soon as they called for recruitments to join the war. Ryan did too but was rejected due to his issue and I went overseas for a while.” he went silent as his eyes blanked remembering all the violence and death his saw while in the army. Swallowing the lump forming, he cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat, looking into Tyler’s curious blue eyes with a blank stare.

 

“It was the worst decision of my life. But I did it to protect the people I love, and I’d do anything, _anything_ for them.”

 

Tyler let the words sink in as silence overcame the tired men, who overlooked the notes Ryan jotted down and handed them. After a while, Evan came walking in with bags in his hands, looking at them with a bright smile as he placed their lunch on a small edge of the table and balanced the other bag carefully, which contained their coffees.

 

“Hey there, boys.” he said in a soft flirty voice, placing the bag onto the table and putting his hands on his hips. Tyler mumbled a greeting as he looked through the food, plopping onto the chair and digging in straight away alongside Luke. Jonathan chuckled as he stood and wrapped his arm around Evan’s shoulders, looking down at him with a loving gaze. Evan giggled and leaned into the hug, a content smile on his lips as he watched Ryan continue reading.

 

“Ry, foods here. You’ll concentrate better with a full stomach.”

 

“In. . yeah in a moment. .” Ryan trailed off, brows scrunched up as he grabbed the notebook and jotted something down. Evan huffed slightly and pouted, earning a secret chaste kiss to his cheek from Jonathan.

 

“He’s been like this for the past few hours. Nothing’s gonna stop him from reading.”

 

“And what’s he gonna do? Read all these books in a day?”

 

“He’s gone through 5 already.” Luke pointed out, to which Ryan shook his head and finally glanced up at them.

 

“It’s not because I’m a genius. I’ve gone through 5 already because they’re all repetitive that I gave up not even halfway through each. None of them have information that the previous one didn’t. They’re all just dead ends.”

 

“Well, what’s it you’re looking for, nerd? Maybe with the rest of us here, we can get through them faster, even if we don’t understand them.”

 

“Look for any mentions of serpentem vectem's crucis.” mentioned Ryan like it was nothing, causing Tyler to nearly choke on his drink as he carefully placed the hot cup down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, glaring over at Jonathan and Evan who were trying their hardest to hold back giggles. Luke simply sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing a book towards Tyler while trying not to scowl at the young officer.

 

“It means the ‘serpent’s cross’, Tyler. You oughta know this, didn’t you take latin in school?” Jonathan teased, knowing full well Tyler didn’t due to the fact that he dropped his education to join the rest of his hoodlum friends in joining the war. When he came back, Jonathan noticed he wasn’t quite the same, mumbling complains of people yelling in his sleep. Evan especially worried over the taller, mothering him when one of his symptoms arose.

 

Shaking the thought out of his head, Jonathan sat back down and looked up at Evan, who was busy flipping carefully through the old books stacked on their table. When he met his fiance’s gaze, the Canadian smiled brightly and took a seat next to Jon, leaning back and shrugging when he was questioned.

 

“I’m not the greatest in Latin, and I don’t really know what you’re looking for, but I thought maybe I could help a little bit.” he whispered, to which Jon took a second to think before pulling out the original leather notebook Ryan had brought with him.

 

“I don’t want you getting involved too deep into this because it might not be safe, but you can take a look at these pictures and see if you recognize these faces.”

 

Evan nodded and traded books with Jonathan, carefully taking out the pictures and examining each of them with interest. The older male smiled and looked down at the book, scanning through the handwritten sentences on the paper. His brows scrunched in confusion as he grabbed another book and put them side by side, quickly noticing the one that Evan originally had was completely different from the rest.

 

“Hey, I think Evan found something.”

 

“I did?” the Canadian asked, glancing up in confusion as Jonathan nodded. In a split second, the others were peeking over his shoulder and scrutinizing what now dawned to them was an old notebook. Ryan’s fingers ran lightly across the pages, ghosting over the old letters as he took in all the symbols drawn around sophisticated writing. He stopped for a moment, before shaking his head in confusion, drawing Tyler’s attention to what he was looking at.

 

“What, what did you see?”

 

“These symbols. . none of these appeared in the other books. This isn’t. . I think we found our answer.”

 

As the other three continued hovering over the notebook, Jonathan turned around to congratulate Evan, only to freeze in his step as he saw the younger looking at the picture of David with wide, scared eyes, eyebrows scrunched up as he shook his head. Looking up at Jonathan, he swallowed thickly and practically shoved the picture into the older’s chest, standing up and carefully placing the journal on the edge of the table.

 

“Evan? Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

“T-That. . that man. . Jonathan, never, and I mean _ever_ , let Brian see that picture. Hide it, burn it, do whatever to it, but just please, don’t let him see it. .”

 

“Why? Does he know him?” questioned Jonathan, worrying gnawing at him as he saw Evan sit back down and bounce his leg nervously, chewing on his nails as he attempted to calm down. Jonathan pulled up a chair before the Canadian and placed a hand on his knee, whispering something to Evan that was too quiet to hear, but seemed to relax the younger slowly.

 

“Now that you’re not dying on me, care to explain why we shouldn’t show Brian this picture?” he asked, blue eyes taking in the way Evan sighed shakily and hugged himself.

 

“Because if you do, he’ll completely shut down. . “

 

"Evan, you know we’d never allow that.” the older male chuckled, his smile quickly dropping at Evan’s gaze.

 

“Jon, that’s his brother.”

* * *

After watching Evan leave in a taxi, Jonathan went back to the other detectives, head swimming with the new found information. He stopped besides a large window to rub his temples, closing his eyes tight as a wave of nausea and exhaustion hit him hard. A loud ringing noise bounced around in his head, the pain overwhelming and making him stumble to a nearby shelf, where he slumped against it until he sat on the ground and groaned quietly.

 

“Jonathan?”

 

He looked up at the way too familiar voice, blue eyes wide as he felt the air be punched out of him. Before him stood a woman with dark brown, curly hair framing a pale face, opal blue eyes looking at him with tenderness and a familiar smile on her rosy lips. She reached out an elegant hand towards him, her smile never fading and her long sleeve, white chiffon dress blowing in the cold wind that suddenly blew his hair into his eyes.

 

“Mommy?”

 

A lump formed in his throat as he tried to push his hair back, a hoarse cry leaving him when he looked back up at his mother. Her white dress was covered in a dark red liquid, blood dripping from her eyes and her extended hand that continued reaching out to him. Blood dripped down her chapped lips as she smiled wide, eyes going pale as her smile grew wider and wider until it wasn’t even human anymore.

 

“ _Come back home, honey.”_

 

“Jonathan!”

 

He gasped raggedly as he blinked, looking up at Tyler who kneeled besides him and had a hand on his shoulder. Jonathan felt sweat go down the side of his neck as he panted heavily, eyes wide as he looked back at the large window to find that no one was there. A small crowd of people had gathered around, whispering between each other and looking at him with a judging gaze as a man pushed forward and kneeled on his other side, Tyler looking at him with cautious eyes.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m a doctor.” the man said, brown eyes scanning Jonathan as he placed his hand on the detective’s shoulders. Said man frowned as he saw the cold sweat slipping down Jon’s face and staining his shirt. He looked up at Tyler as he started opening his bag.

 

“Can you get everyone else to leave?”

 

“I- oh, uh, yeah sure.” he mumbled, slowly getting up and dispersing the crowd. Jon shakily sighed and dropped his head, feeling his heart thumping against his chest and in his ears. The doctor quietly asked him questions about what he had done, what he ate, the usual, whilst Jon softly mumbled replies. Ryan and Luke soon came running up after hearing Tyler’s booming voice through the nearly empty library, eyes going wide in worry when coming to a stop besides the two men on the ground.

 

“What happened?” Ryan asked, worry heavy in his voice as Jonathan started feeling guilty. He was delaying their investigation, all for some stupid hallucination he had of his dead mother.

 

“Nothing, I’m just tired. Sir, thank you for your help, but I thi-”

 

Jon cut himself off as he attempted to stand, nausea once again overcoming him and making him drop back on the floor. The doctor shook his head and checked his heartbeat and lungs, before taking out a syringe and starting to fill it up with some medicine.

 

“How much sleep have you gotten? And I’m not talking about today, I’m talking in a _long_ while.”

 

“What does this have to do with anything? I just zoned out, that’s all.”

 

The doctor glared at the stubborn detective who shucked off his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his button up shirt to expose his pale arm, flinching only slightly when the needle punctured through.

 

“It’s not just ‘nothing’. I’ve seen these symptoms of hallucination in patients who either have PTSD, another form of mental illness, or have not slept over at least 3 hours everyday.”

 

“. . Fine, yes, I admit. I haven’t slept well these past couple of months, but the hallucinations didn’t start until at least a week ago. They started small, just some faces of people I used to know here and there, but it wasn’t until earlier that it got worse.”

 

Ryan frowned at hearing the confession of the younger detective, crossing his arms as Luke shook his head and buried his hands into his pocket. The detective nodded as he pulled the needle away and threw it into a plastic bag in his case, sealing it before grabbing a bottle of pills and handing them to Jonathan.

 

“Take two of these at least an hour before you go to bed, they should help you sleep better and will at least knock you out a good 7 hours.”

 

The detective took the glass bottle of pills from the doctor’s hands, slowly nodding as he sighed. Taking out his wallet, he looked back up to the doctor with a questioning gaze, to which the man simply shook his head and stood up.

 

“Come on, you need to charge me at least _something_.”

 

“It’s completely alright. I became a doctor to help people, not to take their money.”

 

With Tyler’s help, Jonathan slowly got to his feet, turning to look at Anthony with a soft smile and a pale hand outstretched.

 

“Can I at least know the name of the man that might’ve just saved me?”

 

“Doctor Brown. Anthony Brown.”

 

Anthony shook the detective’s hand before walking away, leaving the four males to the side of the library. With his arm slung around Tyler’s shoulders for support, Jonathan turned to the other two, giving the outsiders a grin before jerking his head towards the back.

 

“You guys want to continue that research?”

 

“Actually. . that’s why we came to find you guys. Ryan and I tried asking the librarian for more information regarding the journal Evan found, but we kind of scared him off. .” Luke trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Kind of? That guy looked absolutely terrified! It was like he saw the devil himself.”

 

Jonathan couldn’t help but shiver at Ryan’s words, causing Tyler to give him a worried glance before turning back to Ryan, who was showing them the book.

 

“He just told us to take the book and never come back, else we risk hurting other people.”

 

“Hurting other people? Just what in the hell are we investigating?”

 

“I don’t know, but we should leave just. . just in case.” Tyler whispered, still having Jonathan’s arm around his shoulders. The four men made their way over to the entrance of the library, Ryan giving the librarian one last look before walking a bit faster at the dark gaze the man held. Once outside, he made sure to tip the hat Luke gave him over his eyes, trying not to make any noise of discomfort as the sun burned his eyes. Luke rushed ahead to flag down a cab, opening the door for the other three before taking a seat in front alongside the driver. Pulling away from the library, Jonathan watched the building slowly pass by, and for a second, thought he saw his mother standing in a window, hand on the glass as she watched him with opal blue eyes.

 

He shook his head and rubbed his temple, looking up when feeling a hand on his shoulder. Ryan stared at him with worry and curiosity swimming in his pretty eyes, mouth pinched into a straight line. He smiled tiredly before looking back at the library once again, and after seeing no sign of his mother, side and let his head drop into his hands.

 

“If you don’t mind, what _did_ you see?”

 

“, ,My mother.”

 

“Shit Jon, why didn’t you say anything?” Tyler whispered, looking at Jonathan with worry. Ryan sat between, confusion perceptible on his face as Jonathan stayed quiet and kept his head in his hands. The oldest of the three looked at Jonathan for a few more seconds before turning to Tyler, who scowled at his instructor before crossing his arms.

 

“What happened to his mother?” muttered Ryan softly, not missing the way Tyler slightly flinched before exhaling softly and staring out the window of the moving car.

 

“His mother died of a epidemic typhus when he was younger. He practically saw her die right before his eyes.”

 

“Oh god. . I’m sorry for asking. .”

 

“You didn’t know. Plus, he never talked about it ever again. He was taken in by Evan’s family, since his father left before he was born, and basically grew up with him. It was. . hard, the first few months. The old Jonathan wasn’t back until nearly a year later. I still sometimes think we never really got him back. .” Tyler mumbled, eyes sad as he stayed quiet before turning to Ryan once more.

 

“Enough of that, we have an investigation to solve with limited information. We need to go over everything and anything we can again and determine how they're connected.”

 

Both men turned to look at Jonathan when hearing him chuckle, lifting his head from his hands and giving Tyler a tired grin.

 

“You’re starting to sound more and more like a detective than me. You’ll be taking my spot in the LAPD in no time.”

 

Tyler couldn’t help the soft blush that settled upon his features as a shy smile appeared on his face. Ryan looked over at him and chuckled ruffling his hair playfully as Jonathan once again looked out the window. The car ride was silent for the most part, the only noise being that of the bustling city outside and the soft hum of the radio upfront. After a few more minutes of stopping and going and stopping again due to traffic, the detectives soon arrived at the station, piling out quickly.

 

Before he got out, Luke stopped Jonathan with a strong hand on his shoulder, earning a confused look from the younger. The officer shook his head and stepped back, a small grin on his features.

 

“No no, you’re not helping today. After what happened, I think it’s best if you went home and rested, maybe take that doll we saw back at the cafe out for lunch.”

 

“What? No, this is my investigation, therefore I should be here for it.”

 

“It’s also my investigation, Jon, and if I say you take a day you take it. Now go take Evan out for lunch or something, I’m pretty sure he misses you.” Tyler said, expecting Jonathan to argue back. Before the older could, however, Luke was slamming the door shut in his face and telling something to the driver, who quickly pulled off before Jonathan had a chance to get out. The detective rolled down the window and stuck his head out, looking back and glaring at the three grinning men standing at the bottom of the stairs to the police station. He couldn’t stop the laugh that left his lips as he shook a closed fist at them, earning a wave from Tyler.

 

“I swear Tyler, don’t think I’m retiring just yet, kid!”

 

“Whatever you say, old man! I’ll beat you fair and square one day!”

 

Jonathan grinned before getting back inside the car, sighing contently and slumping in his seat, a determined grin on his tired features.

* * *

“Where are we going?”

 

“You’ll see, just don’t move the blindfold.”

 

“I feel like I’m getting kidnapped.” the Canadian grumbled as Jonathan laughed and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. Evan smiled softly and giggled, his cheeks turning a soft, rosy colour.

 

“You know I’d never allow that my love. Just a few more steps and. . we’re here!”

 

Evan stopped and allowed Jonathan to take off the cloth from his eyes, still closed as Jonathan smiled and wrapped his arms around his waist.

 

“Open.”

 

The younger man gasped as chocolate brown eyes opened, happiness prominent on his face as he turned to Jonathan and tried to force something out. When all he could do was stutter, he groaned and simply brought his lover closer, kissing him lovingly as the taller smiled into the kiss and placed his hands on the younger’s waist. When they pulled away, Evan couldn’t help but press kisses all over his soon-to-be husband’s face, giddiness basically radiating off of him as he turned to look at his surprise.

 

Jonathan had turned the unused room above Brock’s shop into a small dining room, a table and two chairs taken from the storage room downstairs. The table was decorated in a round, blue and white plaid tablecloth, a candle lit in the middle alongside white arbutus flowers. Two steaming plates of pasta accompanied red wine poured in glasses Brock kept in case of special occasions.

 

“Honey, what’s all of this? Our anniversary isn’t until next month.”

 

“What, I can’t treat my beautiful boyfriend to a romantic lunch?”

 

“Oh, you can treat me to _anything_ you want, baby.” Evan flirted, giggling when Jonathan rolled his eyes and snorted. Both young lovers walked over to the table, the older pulling out the chair for Evan before sitting across from him and smiling at the happy look on his boyfriend’s face. They both dug in, joking and laughing, just like they used to. As their lunch came to an end, Jonathan swirled his wine in his glass, clearing his throat as Evan looked at him.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to spend time with you, doll. This investigation-”

 

“Promise me something.”

 

“What?” Jonathan asked, watching as Evan pushed back his chair and got up. He, too, pushed his chair back, watching as Evan slowly made his way up to Jonathan before settling down on the older’s lap. His hands found themselves on the younger’s waist as the Canadian wrapped his arms around the other’s neck and placed their foreheads together.

 

“Promise me that you’ll stay alive. I know this investigation is hard, I caught a glimpse of the rest of the notebook and just. . please, Jonathan, promise me. .”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Good.” he whispered gently, crashing their lips together in the golden glow of the flickering candle. Before they could even go further, there was a series of loud _booms_ outside, followed by screams and multiple clatters downstairs. Both pulled away quickly, looking at each other with wide eyes before throwing open the door and hurrying downstairs.

 

Once they reached the bottom floor of the cafe, they saw multiple people hiding both behind the counter and under their tables, fear perceivable in their features. Jonathan looked to his right, only to see Brock holding Brian close. Both sat on the ground as the Irishman seemed to be having a breakdown of some sort, face hidden in the cotton button-up that Brock wore. Evan and Jonathan hurried to kneel beside them, the Canadian looking up and down his Irish friend as Brock whispered something to Brian before turning to look at Jonathan.

 

“What happened, what was that noise?” whispered Jonathan hurriedly as Brock shook his head.

 

“I don’t know, it came from the building across from here. It sounded like a gunshot, and it sent Brian into an attack.”

 

“Shit, _Scott!_ ” Jonathan cussed under his breath as Evan hurried to get a glass of water for the shaking man in Brock’s arm. Another shot rang through the air, which had Brian crying out and clinging harder to the back of Brock’s shirt. They four ducked under the counter of the kitchen window, listening as people outside ran into safety. The detective thought for a few moments before standing up, pulling out his own gun hidden under his shirt

 

“You guys stay here, I’m going to see what’s wrong.”

 

“Jon, where are you going? Stay back, you’ll get hurt! Jonathan!”

 

“I’ll be fine! Call the police and tell them to ge here, fast!”

 

The blue-eyed man ignored the protesting cries of his lover as he hurried out of the kitchen and through the crowd of scared citizen, bursting through the store door and into the street. The surrounding area was rid of people, cars which were still running abandoned in the the middle of the street as he ran across the still bustling road, shuffling back quickly when he near got run over by cars speeding away. The red door leading into Scott’s store was wide open, and from where he stood, he could hear loud pleas and cries from a familiar voice. Sprinting quickly, Jonathan barged into the herbal store, freezing in his step as his eyes went wide.

 

On the wooden ground kneeled Scott, a dark-skinned man in his arms, whom he cradled close as sobs shook his body violently. The man’s pale arms were covered with blood that oozed out of multiple gunshot wounds on the other man’s chest, dripping onto the ground. Blue eyes went wide as everything went quiet, the only sound being that of the blood dripping into the puddle below in a methodical pattern. A sort of blood-curdling horror settled deep into his chest, sending a cold chill through his spine that was not caused by any wind. His throat closed up, leaving no room for air to travel into his lungs as the dripping got louder and louder in his head.

 

He knew he’d seen this before. . heard that same dripping sound before. . seen all that blood before. . not from his mother, nor from any investigation he ever solved. No, this was closer, nostalgic even.

 

_This was someone he loved._

 

In a split second, he broke free of his trance, leaving him sweating and gasping for air as Scott finally turned to look at him. The young man’s eyes were red and puffy from crying, his pale face looking ten times older with the blood that was scattered on his face. Not letting the daydream stop him, Jonathan hurried to drop to his knees before Scott, eyes wide as he looked at the man gasping painfully for air.

 

“What the _fuck_ happened here?”

 

“T-The man. . the man y-you showed me. . he came ba-back. . with a gun. . he s-shot Marcel. .”

 

“The man? You don’t mean-”

 

“The delusional one. .”

 

Jonathan wanted to continue asking question, but was cut off by the man, Marcel, coughing up blood as he reached a weak, shaky hand up to Scott’s face.

 

“S-Scott. . please. . don’t. . don’t l-let me die. . I’m scared. . so f-fucking scared. .”

 

“Ssh, y-you’ll be fine, my love. . you’ll be fine. .”

 

Scott leaned down to kiss the dark-skinned man’s forehead, pushing back the sweaty curls which stuck to his skin. Jonathan quickly took off his jacket and pressed it against Marcel’s wounds, looking up at Scott as sirens were heard outside. Both men stayed beside the bloody man, even as paramedic’s hurried in to attempt to save Marcel. Scott stayed kneeling beside them as Jonathan stood and staggered back, white shirt covered in blood as were his hands. He didn’t notice the blood he wiped on his forehead as he tried wiping away the sweat, stumbling outside where police officers were pushing back the crowd of people forming, yelling things that were quickly becoming muffled to him as he leaned against the brick wall of the building, slowly sliding down as he rested his arm against his folded knee.

 

He didn’t even notice when Tyler, Ryan and Luke came jogging up to him, worry laced in their voice as they asked him questions he didn't even respond to. He simply watched as a couple of paramedics hurried out, carrying a stretcher between them and trying to stop Marcel from bleeding out. Jonathan dropped his head as his head was filled with nothing but that same damn dripping, causing him to run a hand through his hair and grip the brown locks tightly in his fist.

 

“Jonathan, what the hell happened here?”

 

“Evan and I were having lunch when all of a sudden, we hear gunshots. Everyone started freaking out, so we rushed downstairs, that's when we heard one more ring out before I ran over here and found Scott on the ground, holding a bloody man close to him.”

 

“Was it a robbery or just a blitz attack?”

 

Ryan gulped at the dark look on Jonathan's face as he stood up, wiping the blood from his cheek with his already soiled shirt. He stalked towards the older man, glaring at him over Luke's arm, which extended in front of his shorter companion to keep him safe. Tyler went to stand behind Jonathan, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pulling him back slightly.

 

“That man you guys brought over nearly killed both Scott _and_ his friend, lover, _whatever_. That man has destroyed a life that did not deserve it.”

 

“We brought no one to this city.” Luke answered roughly, throwing a nasty look at the blue eyed detective who scoffed and crossed his arms.

 

“You guys were too stupid to keep a _kid_ locked up, and now, he's out on _my_ streets, killing people because of a delusional fantasy going on in that fried brain of his.”

 

“Jon-”

 

“Shut it, Tyler. I don't need to hear more stupid arguments. Let's go, we're heading back to the station. And you two-”

 

Jonathan walked up to Luke, jabbing a finger to the older man's chest and glaring at the wide-eyed male behind him.

 

“-Are not welcome at our station until you have some kind of fucking explanation for the problems you brought upon this city. And if you don't, better pack your bags and scram.”

 

Before Luke could open his mouth to argue back, the younger detective was walking away, standing tall and with a dark look on his face as Tyler stood between both of them, giving Luke an apologetic look before hurrying off after his mentor. Ryan sighed shakily and gripped the back of Luke's coat, eyes trained downward onto the dirty pavement as Luke turned to look at his partner.

 

“Maybe. . maybe it really is our fault. None of this would've happened if we just did our job properly.”

 

“Hey now, mister Know-It-All, stop that negative thinking. There was no way for us to know how dangerous that kid really was, and it's a mistake we learn from. But now that's in the past, right now, we have an investigation to follow and a detective to get back.” Luke said with a devilish grin on his face as Ryan's mouth twisted into a worried look.

 

“What if he really doesn't want anything to do with us?”

 

“Oh, don't you worry. I've seen that look on his face, that's not an expression of a man who gives up. That's the face of a man who wants change, and he'll be damned if he doesn't fight for it.” Luke finished, still looking at Jonathan's broad back as he walked away. This was no place to give up, no place to stop.

 

They had a murderer to catch, before time ran out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all I have to say is im sorry
> 
> or am i?

Pale pink lips blew a puff of smoke from them, tentative blue eyes watching as the smoke swirled up and dissipated into the humid, spring air that blew in from the window. The sound of muffled footsteps on rug caught his attention as he watched from his peripheral vision. The steps stopped before the door, and soon, came a knock from the other side. He could see the shadow of the person through the cloudy window looking into the room, tall and patient as he rolled his eyes and took another puff, not uttering a sound in hopes they would go away.

 

“Jonathan, I know you’re in there. Can I come in?”

 

The detective blew the addicting nicotine from his lips slowly, sighing quietly and crossing his leg over the other. He still refused to answer his mentee, desite a feeling deep in his gut telling him to say something. He shrugged it off as paranoia and heard as Tyler sighed and leaned against the door, the old wood creaking with his weight.

 

“Acting like bad news and smoking isn’t going to help this case. Weren’t you the same person who told me that sometimes, we can’t save everyone, even when we try our hardest?”

 

“Just cut out Tyler. I’m sure Montoya needs you doing other things around the station.”

 

Before he knew it, Tyler threw open the door to the office and stomped his way inside, a scowl on his face as he glared at Jonathan and crossed his arms. The older man glared back, but showed no signs of moving from his place. The room was suddenly filled with a heavy silence that settled onto their shoulders as the younger tightened his hands into fists.

 

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? One second, you’re all over this case, the next, you step out _and_ chase away the only two people with our best lead. Is there something you’re not telling us about? What did-”

 

“Ice it, Tyler. The only thing you should know is the reason I am doing this is to keep you and everyone else involved safe. This thing, person, god knows what at this point, is far more dangerous than any of the cases I’ve worked on before.” Jonathan took a last puff of his cigar before he put it out on the ashtray beside him, the last of the nicotine making swirls around his head before being blown away by the air coming in from the window.

 

“Every single case that you have taken that got you to where you are today were dangerous. You hunted and took down a drug lord with a single revolver when you were 20. You took down a knife-wielding, intoxicated murderer with your bare fucking hands when you were 21. So don’t give me that bullshit that this case is too dangerous.”

 

“Yeah but back then I wasn’t having visions of my dead mother!”

 

Tyler immediately went quiet, big blue eyes looking at his mentor with regret before he looked away and rubbed his arm. Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, mouth dry from all the cigars he had been smoking. He caught sight of his bloodied clothes bundled up and kicked underneath his table in an attempt to forget the events that had happened not even a day ago.

 

“Look I. . Just. . We’ll be at the hospital downtown if you need us.” whispered Tyler, so soft and vulnerable, that it nearly convinced Jonathan to accompany him. Almost. He knew Tyler was pulling the guilty card, and he’d be damned if feel for it so easily. He simply watched as Tyler sighed and walked to the door, standing at the doorway before glancing back over his shoulder at the detective.

 

“We need to catch this fucker, Jon. Not just for the people, or for your reputation, but for the city too.”

 

“Whatever you say, _detective_.” he mocked with venom in his tone as Tyler simply shook his head and left, closing the door behind himself. As soon as the footsteps faded away, the detective sighed and stood, walking over to his desk and pulling open a cabinet underneath. He stared at the typewriter stored inside and thought for a few seconds, before pulling it out and setting it down on his table. He loaded some paper into the old machine and sat down, staring at the buttons for a while before he started typing away.

 

When he thought he had enough for the time being, he stood up and grabbed the papers, clipping them together and placing them underneath a pile of folders. He grabbed his black jacket off the couch and threw it on, going towards the door and placing his hand on the light switch. Before stepping out, he glanced back at his empty office and took in the silence, dim light pouring in from a slight gap in the blinds.

 

He turned the lights off and closed the door behind himself, his shoes padding across the navy blue carpet underneath him.

 

* * *

 

“Sir, you’re going to have to talk to someone, you can’t just refuse information to detectives.”

 

“I ain’t talkin’ to no bull, sharper or not.” spat the injured man, crossing his arms and looking away almost childishly. Scott sighed as he rubbed his temple with one hand, the other holding onto Marcel’s leg gently.

 

“You cannot just refuse to help an officer, Marcey. It’s against the law.”

 

“Don’t call me Marcey.”

 

Cartoonz pinched his nose as he sighed with frustration, leaning back against his chair with his legs crossed. Ryan bit his lower lip as he fidgeted in the hard seat, moving a pen between his fingers almost impatiently. Tyler’s fists were closed tight, biting his tongue in order to hold back a nasty comment towards Marcel childishness. Before anyone could say anything, a nurse knocked on the door before peeking her head in, light brown hair tied back into a small bun in the back of her head.

 

“Excuse me for interrupting, but Detective Smith just arrived.”

 

Pushing open the door, she held it open for Jonathan who walked in and gave her a grateful, handsome smile. She giggled, before excusing herself from the room. Jonathan smoothed his shirt out beforr walking towards the bed, sparing not so much as a glance at the other three.

 

“I was told you refused to walk to my men about the events that happened.”

 

“Indeed I did, Detective. I have my reason.” Marcel said with confidence, sitting up slightly taller despite the pain in his ribs and chest. Jonathan nodded, before taking a seat beside the bed and resting his elbows on his knees.

 

“Well, now you have me here, so will you start talking or risk getting fined for obstruction of justice, Mr. Cunningham?”

 

“I’m ready to talk, _Mr. Smith_.”

 

“Then let’s start with the events that led up to the shooting. Where were you earli-” before he could finish, Marcel held up his hand to stop him, looking around at the other 2 detectives and Tyler with an ambivalent look. Seeming to understand, Jonathan turned to Tyler and jerked his chin towards the door, which had the younger man nearly fuming.

 

“What? No, we’re not leaving. We spent so much time trying to get this bum to talk, and once he actually agrees, you want to kick us out? I’m staying right here.”

 

“Tyler, this is an order. Get out before you’re forced to.” Jonathan hissed with an impatient look in his eyes, which had Tyler glaring back and shaking his head. Before he could stand, Ryan placed a gentle hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, quickly retracting it once Jonathan jumped away from it.

 

“To be quite honest, I agree with Tyler. Not only that, you seem to forget that we’re also helping solve this case, and anything this man tells you might be important to what we already have.”

 

With a sigh, Jonathan turned towards the injured man and his partner, who looked at him with a lack of agreement but said no more. Marcel leaned back into the pillows that were propping him up and sighed, before looking at Jonathan and licking his chapped lips slightly.

 

“You heard them, didn’t you?” he asked quietly, caramel skin glowing a pretty shade form the light that came in. the detective looked at him with confusion clear on his features.

 

“Hear what?”

 

“The windchimes. You heard them too, right? That’s why you came into the shop. You heard the windchimes.”

 

“Jon, what’s he talking about?” Luke asked as he say the younger man go stiff in his seat, blue eyes blown wide as a pale hand gripped the arm rest. He blinked, trying to force himself to say something, but all that came out of his mouth was a weak ‘what?’.

 

“Detective, you have done something foolish. This whole case will put all and every single one of you in danger, as well as your family. You need to drop this as soon as you can.”

 

“What the hell is he saying? We aren’t just going to drop this case, we’ve come way too far into intestivating to simply leave it.” Tyler argued as the other two mumbled in agreement. Jonathan turned to look at them, before turning his attention back to the injured man. Scott looked equally confused on the other side of the bed, his hold on Marcel’s knee slightly tighter.

 

“How. . how did you-”

 

“No one just goes into that shop. Hell, know one even knows that shop _exists_. You coming in out of nowhere was no coincidence, unless. .”

 

“Unless what? Answer me!” the panic in his voice was evident as Jonathan tried to swallow back his nerves.

 

“Unless you understand alchemy.”

 

An unnerving silence settled over the hospital room as Jonathan felt the air had been punched out of him. Not a single person dared to move, not even breathe at that point. Soon, Scott broke the silence by pushing back his chair and getting up, walking to the other side of the room and looking out a window. Ryan gave his partner a look that had the older man shaking his head in confusion. Tyler stared at the dark skinned male with wide eyes, mouth feeling like cotton as a chill went up his spine.

 

"There's no way-"

 

“You told me you weren’t practicing it anymore, Marcel.”

 

All eyes were now on Scott as he had his arms crossed over his chest, slowly turning to glare at Marcel, who hung his head in shame.

 

“I know, but I had to. It was the only way I could get someone to listen.”

 

“Wait, what do you mean practice? Alchemy is a form of science, you can’t just simply ‘practice’ it without the necessary materials, none of which were found in both the store and your home.”

 

Marcel turned towards a confused Ryan, taking a deep breath in and sitting up all the way.

 

“Do you mind passing me the piece of chalk in my jacket?” addled by the bizarre request, the detective hesitantly nodded and got up, heading to the bloodied jacket stuffed in a plastic bag. Pulling a small piece of white chalk out of his pocket, he walked back over to the bed and handed it to the younger man.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Hissing in pain, he slipped his feet off the mattress, much to the protests of the rest. When he felt Scott and Ryan try to pull him back, he moved their hands off with a look in his eyes and slowly stood up, whimpering slightly at the white hot pain that shot up his chest and burned his lungs. Before anyone could tell what he was doing, he shuffled over to the nearest wall and started drawing something that had everyone but Scott’s attention.

 

“I don’t think this is really the time or place to be drawing-”

 

“Just watch.” Scott interrupted Luke, eyes glued on the wall with a disappointed impression in them. Before they could say anymore, the caramel skinned man stepped back slightly, letting the piece of chalk fall to the ground as he inspected the picture before him.

 

He had drawn what appeared to be a large circle, a smaller circle inside and with a bigger triangle overlapping them. Three smaller triangles crossed both the smaller circle and the triangle, their sharp edges barely touching the outer circle that seemed to bind everything together. Jonathan stood from his spot and came to a stop beside Marcel, looking at the piece with fascination as Marcel simply kept looking forward.

 

“What _is_ this exactly?”

 

“It’s called a transmutation circle. It’s what helps begin an alchemical transmutation, such as turning lead into gold, or wood into a carving. This is one of the most basic circles that anyone who knows alchemy could use.”

 

“So you’re saying that, with this circle, alchemy is in fact possible without the need for science?”

 

Marcel turned towards Ryan, who was trying to sketch the picture in front of him into the leather bound notebook in his hand. He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

 

“Not exactly. . In order to understand alchemy, you need to understand the basic rule of equivalent exchange, which is where something can only be changed if another thing equally as valuable is offered. Uh. . to sum it up quicker, it’s understanding what makes up the object, the deconstruction of said object, and the reconstruction of it into a different thing.”

 

“Jesus christ, how the hell do you exactly know all of this?” Tyler mumbled from his place, head swirling with the information Marcel spewed out like nothing. The shorter man shrugged and rubbed his arm, before clearing his throat and facing the circle once more.

 

“Step back a bit, please.”

 

Jonathan immediately moved backwards and watched as Marcel got into a stance, before suddenly clapping his hands together in a form that resembled that of someone praying. What sounded like the echo is metal scraping something filled their ears, before a bright flash of electricity burst from the circle on the wall, forcing them to cover their eyes.

 

When the blast of wind and electricity faded, their eyes slowly opened to reveal Marcel holding a stone carving of a dragon in his hand. The wall was missing a chunk of it, making an indent that went in, in a weird pattern. The dark skinned man turned around to face the others as he held the dragon towards the detective, who hesitantly took it and examined it.

 

“This. . how. .”

 

“I deconstructed the wall and reconstructed it into this, while giving back what it needed to form. I’m pretty sure the alchemy you were taught does nothing like this, huh?”

 

“No. . not at all. .” mumbled Ryan, coming up next to Jonathan and looking at the small dragon with wide, curious hazel eyes.

 

Marcel smiled.

 

Suddenly started coughing hard, hunching over and gripping the front of his white shirt. Jonathan and Ryan immediately were on his side, trying to get him back into bed while Scott rushed out, his voice resonating the empty halls as he yelled for a doctor.

 

The dragon laid forgotten on the floor, it's head broken off from the impact.

 

“Y-You. . need to. . dr-drop it. .”

 

“Marcel, stop talking. You’re coughing up blood already, this isn’t any good for you!”

 

Marcel wheezed for air as he clapped his hands together once more, falling against the wall and returning it to its original state.

 

Two bloody handprints stained the white porcelain wall.

 

Both doctors and nurses rushed in, pushing him back into the bed as the detectives stepped back. Before Jonathan could go anywhere, Marcel grabbed the sleeve of his sweater and pulled him close, whispering through bloody lips,

 

“Trust no one.”

 

“Sir, his lung has collapsed and he’s going into shock, we need you to leave right now.”

 

Jonathan slowly nodded as Marcel let him go, eyes fluttering shut as he kept heaving for air. As the detective left the room, he closed the door behind himself and leaned against it, frozen for a moment as Marcel’s last words raced through his mind.

 

_Trust no one._

 

Luke, Ryan, Tyler and Jonathan stayed with Scott, who looked like he was ready to have a mental breakdown any second. After what seemed like an eternity, a doctor opened the door and came out, which had Scotty jumping on his feet and rushing towards the man. The detectives stayed behind and, although they couldn’t hear the quiet conversation, knew what the news was by the way Scott’s shoulders fell defeatingly.

 

Jonathan slowly stood and walked over to the younger man, throwing his arm around his shoulder and attempting to lead him back to where they were sitting. Before he could even take five steps, Scott was pushing Jonathan away and glaring at him, backing up from the group of detectives.

 

_Trust no one._

 

“Don’t fucking touch me. . It’s your fault this all happened and now. . now he’s gone. .”

 

“Scott-”

 

“Shut up! Just go away, leave!”

 

Before any of them could say anything, Scotty was walking back into the room, leaving them all in a silence that was deafening. Luke slowly stood from where he was and shook his head, walking towards Jonathan and placing his hand on his shoulder.

 

“You can’t save everyone, no matter how hard you try. Come on, we have more research to look for now.”

 

The blue eyed man simply nodded, still staring at the porcelain white door with a look of regret. Luke left him alone as he walked back to Ryan, who threw Jonathan a sympathetic look before walking into an elevator and leaving. Tyler stood by the chairs and waited for his ment- no, his _friend_ to walk back, not saying a word as they both took the elevator down to the first level and walked out, leaving behind their only lead in the case.

 

_Trust no one_.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later, Marcel’s warning came true.

 

He remembered that day so fucking clearly, so painfully. He remembered it as clear as crystal, the happiness he felt just days before at his wedding ripped away and torn to shreds with a few simple words. The blood he tasted in his mouth as he bit his lower lip, trying not to cry before the officer at his door, in front of the rest of his friends. The repulsive metallic taste that was left in his mouth, his swollen lip adding to the disheveled look he wore all day. Getting home and not being able to mourn, not being able to cry for him, not at his funeral, where he drowned in the sea of black rippling around him.

 

[**(distant - n u a g e s** )](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSx4Yc7QGqk)

 

He remembered finally being alone in that church, black tie loosened and hair sticking up in various places as he made his way up the aisle, alone. He remembered reaching the shiny coffin, deserted in the church with marble statues of saints to accompany his abandoned soul. He remembered suddenly falling to his knees and letting out the most woeful cry, clutching the front of his suit as he cursed the heavens above, the hells below, cursing himself as he sobbed and screamed for the person who’d never come back.

 

He remembers the day Tyler died.

 

Jonathan found himself sitting in a large velvet wing chair in the little lounging area beside the chapel, chin resting on his pale hand and his suit wrinkled. His ankles were crossed as he was faced away from everybody else, the dim blue afternoon light washing over him and the carpet covered floor below him. He drowned out the quiet chatter in the background from mourning family members and friends, his mind wandering far, far away, to a place where only the statues of saints and the paintings of Jesus accompanied him in such a lonely little room. He could feel the cup of tea resting on his lap get colder by the minute, the smell of jasmine reaching his nose. Despite that, he kept gazing out the window, despondent blue eyes watching the waves hit the sandy beach, pulling the grains resting on the shore back to the depths of the endless ocean, where they’d rest until the end of times.

 

He could hear someone walking towards him, coming to a stop beside him and letting their hand rest at the top of the tall chair. Jonathan refused to move, watching from the corner of his eye as the person finally came into view and sat across from him.

 

Sitting in the chair in front of him was Tyler, his light brown hair combed back in a way that showed all his young and handsome features. He was dressed in the suit he wore to Jonathan and Evan’s wedding, his brown tie just a bit crooked like he always wore it. The sleeves of his grey blazer were rolled up, the blazer just slightly unbuttoned to reveal the cream coloured dress shirt underneath. Camel coloured chinos were custom tailored to rise just slightly above his ankle, leaving his brown leather shoes to shine in the dull light. The younger man crossed his right leg over the left one, resting his ankle on his knee and leaning lazily back against the chair.

 

For a second, the detective felt like falling apart all over again, letting the dam in his eyes break and leave a cascade of tears falling down his face. But instead, he watched Tyler from his position, not daring to move in case the vision of his best friend went away. The younger looked at him with an unreadable expression, baby blue eyes blinking slowly, lashing fluttering with every close of his eyes.

 

_“Are you going to continue?”_

 

Tyler’s voice sounded far away yet somehow, close, echoing for eternity inside his head.

 

“I don’t know. .” the detective whispered, afraid that the rest would think him crazy for talking to himself. Tyler smiled knowingly and huffed a soft chuckle.

 

_“Liar.”_

 

“What?”

 

_“Liar. You’ve lied to me before and now, here you are, lying to a ghost. You do know what you’re going to do, Jonathan, you just haven’t come to terms with it because you’re afraid of letting go.”_

 

Jonathan nearly threw his head back and laughed, but settled down for a quiet chuckle instead, blue eyes going as dark as the ocean outside. Tyler, however, simply kept on smiling, linking his hands together and playing with the ring on left hand. He looked so real, so alive, Jonathan nearly reached over to run his fingers gently over the pale cheek.

 

“Tyler, I’m-”

 

_“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing could’ve stopped the events of that day, no matter how much you wish and pray.”_

 

“I’m just. . I’m so sorry for dragging you into this investigation. If I had just listened. .”

 

_“If you would’ve listened to everyone else, you wouldn’t have come this far. You did good Jon, you really did.”_ Tyler whispered to him, his rich, gentle voice carried by the wind and blown like the petals in a white dandelion. Jonathan shifted and placed his tea down, before resting his elbows on his knees and hiding his face in his hands.

 

_“Could you do me one last favour?”_ the younger asked, so small and soft, it made a lump form in Jonathan’s throat, making him unable to speak. He simply nodded, pressing the palms of his hands harder into his eyes to stop the tears from slipping out.

 

_“Take care of Kelly for me, will ya? She’s a strong, independent woman, but right now, I know she needs all the support she can. She’s tearing, and I don’t want to see her breaking apart completely, dead or alive.”_

 

“I-I promise. . we’ll take good care of her. .”

 

_“Thank you.”_

 

Looking up, he saw the image of Tyler slowly start disappearing, his outline becoming fainter and fainter by each passing second. Jonathan bit his lower lip, before letting a sort of whisper-cry escape his throat.

 

“W-Wait, Tyler. . ! I. . I need to know. What exactly did you find that night. . ?”

 

The dead look in those baby blue eyes sent a chill down his spine.

 

_“The end of all.”_

 

* * *

 

[ **(Spiritual Fog - Sloati)** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2luUjV4v95A)

 

“That was a close call, Father. Are you absolutely positive you want to continue letting these filthy humans investigate us?”

 

“Do you dare doubt your father, child of mine?”

 

The strong, deep, rich voice of a man boomed through the empty room, silencing the person in a second and leaving them under an intensive gaze that could kill anyone, human or not.

 

“No, Father. I do not doubt the almighty strength and wisdom you bear.”

 

“Good. Now, why don’t you go introduce yourself to your new sibling?”

 

Slowly, the powerful man stood from his throne of stone and metal, walking down a small set of stairs and to the much shorter figure waiting for him with their hands behind their back. With a heavy hand on their shoulder, their Father led them further back into the tunnels, where a tall man struggled to get up, the muscles on his arms and back rippling underneath his shirt.

 

“Meet your new brother.”

 

Brown eyes watched as his new brother slowly turned to look at both him and his Father, head tilted slightly and watching them curiously.

 

Baby blue eyes blinked in the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's not proof-read, Im in the process of preparing for Endgame, aka rewatching every single MCU movie uwu

His shoulders felt heavy as he slowly took a sip from his hot coffee. Jonathan sighed as he set the mug back down, leaning back against the chair and staying silent. Before he could get up, Evan threw open the door to their kitchen, an angry scowl on his face as he marched in and threw the newspaper in his hand down onto the table, the title practically screaming accusingly back at the blue-eyed man.

 

**_Breaking News: All Time Rising Detective, Apprentice to the Infamous Mr. Sark, Retires!_ **

**_Coward or Hero?_ **

 

“What the hell is this?”

 

“Evan, I can explain-”

 

“Well, it better be good! Just what were you thinking, Jonathan? Tell me, what were you thinking?”

 

The older watched as his lover pulled out a chair and sat down, facing Jonathan with an angry look. He sighed as he ran a hand through his dark hair, messing it up more than before. Both men stayed quiet, the room heavy with the silence, suffocating Jonathan more and more with each passing second.

 

“I just. . We. . Evan, I had to do it. .”

 

“No, you didn’t. Jon, in my years of knowing you, you have never _once_ given up on a case, ever. That’s what Sark taught you. And now. . You can’t do this. You can’t do this to me, to the city, to _Tyler_. .”

 

The older man bit down on his lower lip as Evan slowly shook his head, straightening back up on his chair with an expression that Jonathan could only decipher as crestfallen. The younger stood up, the chair scraping against the marble floor as he stared down as Jon, lower lip trembling a bit as his hands tightened into fists.

 

“You’re just scared. . you’re scared that the same thing that happened to Tyler is going to happen to you. .”

 

“Evan that’s not-”

 

“Bullshit! You used my best friend as bait for your stupid case, and now, he’s buried six feet underground!”

 

“He was my best friend too!” Jonathan yelled, standing up quickly and nearly tipping over his chair.

 

The silence that followed was tense as the two men stared each other down. Evan suddenly turned and stormed out of the kitchen, yanking his jacket off the coat hook beside the door and practically running out of the house, leaving the blue-eyed man alone with his thoughts. Jonathan plopped back down on his chair, rubbing his temple and staring down at his now cold coffee. WIth a heavy breath, he placed his mug in the sink and took one last glance at the newspaper, examining the picture the reporters had taken.

 

It was one of both Tyler and himself, standing before the station. Jonathan, like always, had turned his head before they could snap a proper picture of him, leaving Tyler to look at the camera with the widest and proudest grin he could muster. The older man chuckled sadly and exited the kitchen, grabbing his own coat from the hook before abandoning the quiet house, leaving behind the lone ghost of his best friend.

* * *

 “You know he hates me now, right? He thinks I’ve used Tyler as bait and abandoned the case because things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to.”

 

“He’s just grieving. Give him some time and he’ll come back. In the mean time, dip the bill with me."

 

“You have never met Evan.” the blue eyed man chuckled, bringing the glass cup up to his lips and tipping his head back, the strong liquor invading his mouth and burning his throat. He groaned as he placed the cup down on the counter, coughing a bit and turning to face the rest of the room behind him. A small band played jazz from the corner of the room, a short blonde crooner singing the words to a song Jonathan had never really heard before. The man beside him continued facing the bar, quietly sipping on his own mixture of bourbon and soda.

 

“To be fair, I’ve only seen him twice. The first was when he asked me to forcefully give you two time for your honeymoon, the second was when I was at your door giving you the news of Tyler’s death. So, to be quite honest, we haven’t ever really met under the appropriate circumstances.”

 

“You’ve got a point there, Commissioner.” Jonathan chuckled, leaning back against the counter and resting his elbows back on the granite surface.

 

“You’re a retired man now, Jonathan, there’s no need to keep calling me Commissioner any longer. Please, call me Adam.”

 

Jonathan snuck a glance at Adam, watching as the man dressed in a grey suit with a matching overcoat tried hiding his grin with the rim of his glass. Brown eyes glanced back at the younger man before quickly looking forward again, downing his glass of liquor before placing it back down on the counter and pushing himself away from it.

 

“Remember, Jonathan, this isn’t permanent. It’s a temporary solution to keep you from being their next victim.”

 

“Better be. I already miss it out there.”

 

Adam chuckled as he reached into the inside of his pocket, pulling out some cash and leaving it underneath his glass. Standing up, he fixed his suit and started walking away, only stopping when the younger man called out to him.

 

“You forgot your cap, Adam.”

 

“Keep it, suits you better. Also, some quick advice, you might want to take a closer look inside the head of yours. You’d be surprised at what you’d find.”

 

Before the blue-eyed man could say more, Adam had walked away, leaving him with a camel coloured flat cap and strong whiskey yet to be done. Jonathan processed the words Adam had said to him before parting, turning around and swirling the ice in his drink slowly.

 

“What does he mean, ‘take a look inside that head of yours’?”

 

Looking down at the cap, he quickly realized what the Commissioner meant and hurriedly downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass, slapping down some bills onto the table-top before rushing out in the day, taking a shortcut to the only place he could think of.

 

Brock’s bakery.

* * *

 “It’s binary. It was discovered that in 1941, the Germans were using this to get out encrypted military transmissions. How did you manage to get this?”

 

“Well, a little bird dropped this off in my cap earlier. Said it was important.”

 

“You never wear caps, Jon.”

 

“And you don’t ever know how to keep it on a downlow now, do you Brian?”

 

The pretty man shrugged with a chuckle, leaning over the wrinkled piece of paper and scanning the ones and zeros scribbled on it. Jonathan sat opposite of him, twirling a fountain pen in his hand as Brian chewed on his bottom lip.

 

“So. . can you get it figured out?”

 

“They’re coordinates. More precisely, they’re an address.”

 

“How the hell did you get that from a bunch of ones and zeros?”

 

Brian glanced up at the older man, pretty blue eye sparkling with mischief as he pointed at the set.

 

“There are a couple of words in here but overall, these are just a bunch of numbers. They come in sets of four, so ones represent odd numbers and zeros represent even. 0000 would be 0, 0001 would 1, 0010 would be 2, so on and so on. Letters are a bit harder to explain, since they come in sets of eight rather than four, and involve a lot of adding.”

 

“. . I’m just going to say I understand so you can move on.”

 

Brian couldn’t stop the snort that he let out as he took the fountain pen from Jonathan’s hand and scribbled the address below the code, sliding the slip of paper back over to the older man who thanked him before stuffing back into his breast pocket. As the two stood up, Brian placed his hand on Jonathan’s arm, stopping the taller from going anywhere.

 

His touch lingered just a few more seconds that usual.

 

“We haven’t had much time to talk lately, but how have you been holding up? I know Evan is still in denial of it all.”

 

“I’m uh, still getting used to it. You know, not having him around and all. Evan’s gone through denial already, he’s just angry at everyone and everything at the moment.”

 

He held Brian's gaze longer than needed.

 

“I can tell. He came in fuming this morning, and has been angrily scrubbing the plates in the back. I don’t blame him, though. We saw the newspaper this morning.”

 

Jonathan rolled his eyes and moved his arm away, watching as Brian placed his hand on his hip and raised a brow at him.

 

“Really? You’re just gonna roll your eyes at me, and then what? Just walk away and pretend like nothing happened? Jon, you retired right after Tyler’s death, people are going to suspect the only other detective besides the two outsiders of being the murderer. Their alibis are strong, you on the other hand-”

 

“Don’t have one. I’m very well aware. But they won’t turn on me. I’ve protected this city way too many times for them to just turn their backs on me so quick.”

 

“You really don’t see it do you?” Brian whispered, groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose as Jonathan’s confused look. The younger man grabbed ahold of the taller’s arm once more and dragged him over to the door, cracking it open just enough to let Jonathan look through. The usuals stared at the door the two had gone into, whispering between each other with disappointed looks on their faces. The older felt his breath stop as he slowly stepped backwards, feeling as Brian’s hand trailed down his arm slowly before letting go.

 

“This is what’s happening, Jonathan. Either you do something, or this is going to get ten times worse. Now go, those directions were given to you for a reason. Hurry, before Evan finds you back here and possibly causes a scene.”

 

The older swallowed back the lump of anxiety forming in his throat and nodded, pulling the cap over his face and walking out into the public, a heavy weight settling onto his shoulders.

 

From a table in the corner of the bakery sat a young man, dressed in a dark brown waistcoat and matching chinos. He loosened his tie before lowering his newspaper just a bit, following the older man with chocolate brown eyes that swirled with questions.

 

“Your uh. . hot milk is ready?" a confused voice questioned, breaking him out of his trance.

 

Looking up, he met Evan’s gaze, quick to notice the furrowed brows and slight annoyance in his voice that he probably didn’t know he was evoking. The younger smiled up at him, placing down the paper and carefully taking the disposable paper cup from him and standing, slinging his worn out leather messenger bag over his head.

 

“Thank you, kind sir.”

 

With that, he fixed his coat before walking out into the bright Californian sun, looking both ways down the street before walking off into an alleyway of some sort, a devious smile on his face.

 

“Bingo.”

* * *

 Jonathan stared down at the paper in his hand, overlooking the address Brian had deciphered for him before glancing back up at the building.

 

“This can’t be it.”

 

The building was old, falling apart into disrepair from the years and weather it had endured. Windows were either cracked or missing, and the dirty white paint was chipping away to reveal the solid red brick underneath. If he looked close enough, he could spot a couple of birds once in a while flying in and out of the vents, carrying with them pieces of grass and worms for their nest.

 

“This _really_ can’t be it.”

 

“Oh, but it is.”

 

Jonathan turned around to see both Ryan and Luke walking up to him, another young man walking beside them. The blue-eyed man grinned as he pulled both the detectives into a brief hug, a bright smile on his face.

 

“Luke, Ry! Never thought I’d be so glad to see your faces.”

 

“Alright, don’t get all soft on me. Remember, we still have a case to solve.” answered Luke, patting Jon’s back before pulling away.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Who’s this guy?” asked Jonathan, glancing over at the man standing beside Ryan. The man has ginger hair combed back, blue-green eyes staring at him from behind black glasses. His suit was tailored to fit his body frame just right, hugging all the right places and making his shoulders look broad and steady.

 

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Craig Thompson, I’m a forensic scientist sent by Commissioner Montoya to help in this investigation. I’m also a very close childhood friend of Tyler’s, and when I heard what had happened, I knew I needed to get here.”

 

“You knew Tyler?”

 

The younger nodded, looking down almost guiltily as he loosened his tie and sighed. Jonathan smiled sadly and patted Craig’s shoulder, looking back when he heard Ryan clear his throat.

 

“Come on, we’ll show you to the office.”

 

“Office?”

 

Luke grinned at him and ignored his questions, instead, leading them into the building through a large hole in the wall, covered with an old and tattered blanket. Jonathan squated as he stepped through, pressing the cap closer to his head, as to keep it from getting stuck on the sharp pieces of metal sticking out of the wall. Luke turned to see if they were still following him, before leading them to the other side of the building where an old metal staircase awaited the men.

 

Broken pieces of glasses crunched under their shoes as they moved across the empty factory, bits and pieces of old machines and screws littering the already messy floor. Their footsteps echoed loudly as they climbed up the stairs, metal clanking in the stillness. As they got up to the top level, Ryan walked before a door and grabbed ahold of the doorknob, turning to face Jonathan with a grin.

 

“Welcome detective, to your new office.”

 

Pushing open the door, Jonathan walked forward and couldn’t help the barely audible gasp that escaped him. Inside was an old room, furnished with second hand furniture and a desk big enough to fit all their work. Beside a somehow still intact window was a bookcase, chipped slightly and with a desperate need of a repaint, yet, fitting the aesthetic of the old room.

 

On the desk was Jonathan’s old typewriter, important papers stacked beside it and a framed picture of his and Evan’s wedding sitting prettily on the edge of the table. Beside him, Luke clapped a hand onto his shoulder and nodded confidently at the choice of style the room presented.

 

“We know it’s not much, but Montoya told us to make it as close as your old office as possible, so you could get your job done.”

 

“He. . you. .”

 

“Unlike you, we’re still working for the department. He’s even told everyone in the force to act as if they despise you, as to make whoever is causing this to come after you.” Ryan explained, nails picking at the skin on his hands nervously as Jonathan turned to look at him quizzically.

 

“Am I bait?” the blue-eyed man asked softly as Ryan slowly nodded.

 

“Basically, yeah. .”

 

“The hunter has become the haunted.” Craig said from behind them as Jonathan turned to stare at him. Taking a deep breath in, the older turned to face the room once more, freezing for a second before nodding with composed and determined look deep in those ocean blue eyes.

 

“Let’s do this.”

* * *

“Hey Jon, take a look at this.”

 

The blue-eyed man looked up from where he was leaning over reading a book, walking over to Luke, who was in the process of laying out some newly developed photos onto Jonathan’s table.

 

“These are crime scene snaps. Luke, I was there in person, I saw everything.”

 

“Look closer. Is there anything-more importantly- anyone that stands out in all these?”

 

Jonathan sighed and gently picked up one of the pictures from David’s case, looking over each person present in the background. He noticed a rather young man standing in the way back, face purposely hidden just a bit by the edge of his cap going over his eyes. Looking at the next picture, which happened to be John, he noticed the same young boy in the background, looking as if he was busy writing down something on a small notepad.

 

“The kid. Look, do you see him?”

 

Luke peered at the pictures in Jon’s hand, following the younger’s finger to a figure hidden well behind all the bystanders. His brows scrunched as he took one of the images into his own hand, looking at it closer.

 

“A newshawk? I thought they were keeping them back from the crime scene.”

 

“I thought so too.”

 

“Guys, I think you might wanna see this.”

 

Looking at each other, both men placed the pictures back down and walked over to where Ryan was working, hunched over some newspaper whilst Craig worked opposite of him, eyes scanning the first page of each newspaper and putting them side by side.

 

“Hey you, what did you get?” asked Luke softly, throwing his arm around the younger’s shoulder and rubbing his arm. Ryan looked up at him frantically, before looking back down at the papers before him, pointing down at the dates printed onto them.

 

“The dates. They’re written barely a day after the murders took place. The information wasn’t released to the papers until at least 3 days later.”

 

Jonathan was quick to snatch the newspapers off the table, wide eyes looking at the exact dates and desperately trying to control his breathing. Looking down, he caught sight of the one talking about Tyler’s death, and suddenly, he felt like throwing up his lunch.

 

“What. . what date was the latest one written. . ?”

 

“July 5th, 1948. Tyler was murdered-”

 

“July 4th, 1948. How did we not notice this before? How did we not notice the papers?”

 

Craig cleared his throat to get their attention as he pushed his glasses further up his nose pushing some of the articles he was reading towards them.

 

“Most companies take at least a day to get their papers properly formatted, so they’re released at least two days after a major event. You guys weren’t able to catch on to what was happening because whoever wrote these, synchronized his own publishing date with the one of every single newspaper across the city. It wouldn’t raise any eyebrows if all the papers released that day were talking about the same event.”

 

Jonathan felt a wave of nausea hit him hard as he stumbled to sit down, mouth cotton dry as the two detectives looked between themselves, then back at Jonathan, silence overcoming them all as the little hope they still had started slowly diminishing. Craig looked down at the paper, before quickly glancing back up, a small twinkle they could only guess was hope, lighting up his face.

 

“We have the name the of both the publisher and the author, right?”

 

“Yes we do. We don’t have the actual authors name, however. All we have is their pen name.” Luke pointed out, reading from the bold letters the name.

 

“Smiity.”

 

They watched in confusion as Craig pulled out a small notepad from his breast pocket, flipping through pages filled with phone numbers until he found one that had him standing up and rushing to get his coat. Jonathan pushed himself off his chair, which scratched uncomfortably against the floor, and rushed towards the door as soon as the younger scientist walked out, flying down the metal set of stairs.

 

“Craig, where are you going?” Ryan yelled from the top of the stairway, just as Craig reached the bottom and headed towards the entrance. He turned and continued walking backwards, a grin on his face.

 

“I think I know who are suspect is.”

* * *

 

Hurried footsteps echoed loudly in the tunnel, each one drawing him closer and closer to the man known as the Father. His breathing was controlled, but he felt as if his heart would stop at any second from just how fast it was beating. The smell of sewer water and dead rodents had him wrinkling his nose, pale hand coming up to his nose and covering it with a small handkerchief.

 

In less than a minute, the young man found himself standing outside a heavy metal door, towering high above his head and decorated with a drawing he could only guess was the infamous ‘Tree of Life’, words written in Latin decorating the bark. He closed his eyes, trying one last time to control his anxiety, before raising his hand and knocking on the door. The knock echoed through the empty tunnels, resonating deep in his chest as he waited.

 

Soon, the door slowly swung open, letting him through before quickly slamming closed, causing him to jump from the deafening clamour. His heart beat faster and faster as he dug his nails into his palm, hesitating walking towards the metal throne he could barely make out from the light pouring in from a window in the wall.

 

“Come forward, child.”

 

He didn’t know what possessed his body to follow the booming instructions, but as soon as they were said, he found his legs slowly making their way to the man in a white robe, slouching in his seat and watching his every movement through piercing blue eyes.

 

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a droplet of water fall into a puddle.

 

He stopped walking once he was about a foot away from the man who made his anxiety go haywire, a voice screaming at him from the back of his head to run. He wanted to- no, he _needed_ to run away, leave that place and never look back. Change his name and move far far away from the forsaken city.

 

Deep down, however, he knew they would find him.

 

They always did.

 

“What brings you here today, child?”

 

“I found your pigeon.”

 

“Did you now?” he asked curiously as the young man quickly nodded his head and started digging through his messenger bag. Finding what he needed, he pulled out an envelope, labeled with a series of numbers that were of no use to either of them. With a snap of the Father’s fingers, a man stepped out of the shadows, making the younger swallow back the fear rising in his throat. The man’s caramel skin glistened in the sunlight that just barely hit him, walking towards the younger and holding out his hand.

 

The young man slowly handed it to them, not missing the tattoo of a dragon eating itself on the palm of his hand. The other quietly took the envelope and walked up to the man sitting on the throne, bowing his head and giving him the paper. The older slowly opened it, taking out a small stack of pictures and sifting through each one.

 

“Where were these taken?”

 

“At ‘Moo’s Cafe and Bakery’, sir. He is good friends with the owner there, more precisely, grew up with him and the other two men since they were kids. If you’re going to find anywhere, it’s there.”

 

“You did an excellent job, Smiity.”

 

The brown eyed man swallowed hard as he nodded, grip tightening on his bag. As the Father handed the pictures to the other, Smiity couldn’t stop himself from blurting out what he had tried so desperately to bite back, his words coming out more as a plea rather than a statement.

 

“I got you what you wanted, now let me see him.”

 

Those cold eyes had him nearly trembling under their intense gaze, but he stood his ground and straightened his back in an attempt to make his shoulders look broader than what they really were.

 

“I said, let me see him. That’s the whole reason why I even did this job for you, right? You said you’d let me see him.”

 

“You’re very persistent in wanting to see him, aren’t you? Very well then. Pride, bring him out please.”

 

The man, who Smiity now knew as Pride, nodded and walked away into the darkness, his footsteps echoing through the tunnel. The young man fidgeted with his hands nervously, playing with a solid silver ring on his right hand and chewing on his already chapped lips. After a while, a set of twin footsteps started approaching them, and the brown-eyed boy _swore_ his heart stopped beating as soon as the other came into the light.

 

He couldn’t help but throw himself onto the light blond haired man, hugging him tight and burying his face into the chest of the man Smiity knew all too well.

 

Something was wrong.

 

Smiity quickly pulled himself off and stared up into the blue eyes that he had come to love so dearly, wishing with all his might that the other recognized him.

 

The blank look on the other’s face sent a pang of grief through his heart.

 

“John? John it’s me, Smiity. I’m here now, John, I’m here.”

 

“Who the hell are you? My name’s Sloth, not John.”

 

The lump forming in his throat was making it harder and harder to speak with each passing second, tears blurring his vision as he desperately grasped the other’s cold hand in his own.

 

“W-What do you mean? John, you kn-know who I am. It’s me. What happened t-to you?”

 

When the same blank face kept staring at him, he turned his head angrily to face the Father, salty tears streaming down his face as he clenched his teeth tight.

 

“What did you do to him? What did you do to my best friend. . ?!”

 

“I fixed him.”

 

Smiity couldn’t help the sob that left his throat, falling against John’s chest and hugging him close, not caring just how pathetic he looked in front of the man he feared. The next words out of John’s mouth just had him sobbing harder, feeling his heart break at the voice that sounded way too much like that of the man he loved.

 

“Father, can I go back to sleep? This is a pain in the ass, and I’m tired.”

 

“As you wish, Sloth.”

 

Smiity let himself be pushed away by Jo- no, by Sloth, trying to wipe the tears away from his eyes as the sin who held his best friend’s body walked away, back into the darkness. Everything was quiet, besides Smit’s occasional whimper, until he took a shuddering breath and faced his greatest fear.

 

Chocolate brown eyes were emotionless, complete ice. The hope that they contained not even 5 minutes ago was forever gone, lost with the love he felt deep inside his broken heart.

 

“Bring him back. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll walk millions of miles if I have to, chase the detective for the rest of my life, but please, bring him back. He’s the only one I have left, please, bring him back to me!!” he cried, voice rising with anger as he fell to his knees before the throne, bending down until his forehead hit the dirty floor and his tears created small puddles underneath.

 

“I’ll do whatever you want, whatever! Please. . please!”

 

“Bring me the book.”

 

Smiity shot up from where he was, looking up at the powerful man with a tear covered face.

 

“The detective known as Ryan carries a notebook around with him. Bring it to me and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“Of course. . Of course, sir. I’ll bring it to you. You have my word.”

 

“Good, now go.”

 

Smiity quickly sprang to his feet and ran to the door, pulling it open with all his strength and squeezing through the gap. His feet carried him outside the tunnel, but even then, he continued running. He wouldn’t stop until he had John back, the old John, the one who held him close when he had nightmares and wore rings on all his fingers, saying something along the lines of them being in fashion. He’d do whatever it took to bring his best friend back.

 

Even of it meant the downfall of humanity. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aye today's my bday :D
> 
> im fucking OLD

“Who’s he calling?” Luke asked, arms crossed and cigar between his lips.

****

“Close friend from England. Said that if we needed to find someone, his friend knew just who to contact.” answered Ryan, watching from where he was at Craig. Craig nodded along to what the other person told him on the phone, writing down something on his notepad and hanging up the phone. Craig then jogged towards them, stuffing his notepad back into his pocket.

****

“He couldn't find much on the guy we’re looking for, but there are good news and bad news. Good news is that he’ll be sending a group of six here to help with this whole situation."

****

“And the bad news?” questioned Luke, taking a drag from his cigar. 

****

“Bad news is, they won’t be here until almost the end of August, possibly even September. Jordan said he’d do whatever he could to get them to the states quick enough from Australia, but it will take quite some time.”

****

Ryan nodded and started walking back to their small office with the other three in tole. “If we want to get closer to finding out the truth, let’s start with our guy. There should be some information back at the station, maybe even the library, so we can start there. How does that sound, Jon-?”

****

Ryan turned to look at Jonathan, who stared out into the heavy traffic, watching the buggies run by and listening to the overwhelming sound of horns honking. He seemed to be under a heavy trance, blue eyes cloudy and hands buried in his pockets. When Ryan snapped his fingers rather loudly in front of his face, he seemed to snap back into reality, blinking before turning to face the other three, confusion clear on his features. Luke sighed as he dropped his smoke, crushing it under his heel and putting a heavy hand against the younger’s shoulder.

****

“Actually, how about you go home and take a break? Let’s all just go home. It’s been a long day for all of us. We’ll meet back at the office tomorrow at 12 o'clock, got it?”

****

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.” the ex-detective responded, He watched the other three walk away before turning on his heel and pulling his cap down. As he walked past a restaurant, he stopped in his tracks before walking backwards, staring up at the bright neon sign shining vividly against his face. A small smile made its way to his face as he walked in, unaware of the careful eyes watching him from the alleyway.

****

\-----

****

“Honey, I’m home.” Jonathan looked up at the sound of Evan’s voice, quickly shuffling everything on the table before fixing his collar. He heard the younger groan in exhaustion as he left his shoes at the door and hung up his coat, trudging into the kitchen with a yawn. The blue-eyed man had just finished placing two glasses filled with ice on the table before he saw Evan walk in with a box of pizza in his arms, staring at the scene with wide eyes.

****

“Jon-”

****

“Uh. . guess we had the same idea huh?” Jon chuckled, motioning to his own box of pizza on the table. Evan looked at the table, before back up at his husband, a small smile making its way up to his face as he placed the box down and wiped the grease off in his pants. They both stood there, looking at each other quietly before the older finally cleared his throat and grabbed hold of the other’s hands gently.

“I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. You out of all people know how much Tyler meant to me, to all of us. I couldn’t just let him die like that. . not after everything. .”

****

“Jonathan. .” Evan bit his lower lip before pulling the taller into a tight hug. The older hugged back tightly, burying his face in the other’s raven locks and closing his eyes tight. He felt Evan gripped the back of his shirt tight, pressing his face into his husband’s shoulder. They both stayed silent, enjoying the silence, before Evan pulled away and cupped the other’s face in his hand.

****

“Movie night?”

****

“Movie night.”

 

\-----

 

Hours later, they found themselves standing in the middle of their living room, laughter bouncing off the walls as music played loudly from their bright blue radio on the bookshelf. Evan giggled as Jon nearly tripped over the coffee table behind him, his unique laughter bubbling up his throat and painting his pale cheeks a rosy colour. The older grabbed ahold of Evan’s hand and twirled him fast, catching him by his waist and pressing against the others back, giggling like teenagers in love. 

 

“Where did you learn to dance?”

 

“From the master himself.” replied Jon with a bright smile, turning Evan around so he press a kiss to his lips. The Canadian giggled whilst kissing back, swaying with the tune of the music. Jonathan smiled brightly, stepping back to shimmy out of his button up shirt and throwing it somewhere on their couch. Evan rolled his eyes at him and lightly hit his chest, grabbing ahold of his hands once more and going back to dancing.

 

“You look good in muscle shirts. Should wear them more often.”

 

“Ev, you said the same thing about button ups, make up your mind.” Jonathan joked, leaning down to playfully nip at the younger’s cheek. Evan yelped and whined, moving his face as far as he could as the older followed him with a chuckle.

 

“Jonathan-!” he whined, screeching when the other stuck his tongue out and lightly touched his cheek. The older threw his head back in laughter and brought Evan’s waist closer, pressing himself against the younger and putting their foreheads together. Evan sighed happily as the tune changed, a softer song coming on that had them both gently swaying.

 

[ **(** **In the Blue of Evening (feat. Tommy Dorsey and His Orchestra) )** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IM-N3Kus-uQ)

 

Jonathan felt the younger’s arms snake around his shoulders, holding him close and feeling his warmth. Leaning in, he rested his chin on the other’s head, breathing in the sweet smell of honey and vanilla. He sighed contently as he moved them side to side, hands holding Evan’s waist securely. They slowly moved around the room as one, past the window, which illuminated the room in a warm, gold colour, and the kitchen door, where a warm summer breeze blew in from the screen door. Around the soft, mint coloured couch, and behind a matching wing chair that they cuddled on more than once during the cold of winter. 

 

The blue-eyed man hummed softly with the tune of the song, dipping Evan low and stealing a sweet kiss before slowly bringing him back up and continuing to sway. Placing his chin back on the other’s head, he didn’t miss the ghost sitting on the mahogany stairs leading up to their second floor, chin resting on his hand as they winked and smiled nostalgically. In the blink of an eye, Tyler was gone, leaving Jonathan with an aching hole in his chest. He shakily sighed and stopped his movements, tilting Evan’s head up slightly with one hand, knocking their foreheads a bit too hard. 

 

“Evan, I. .”

 

He was immediately silenced by the other, who put a finger against his lips and smiled knowingly. Jonathan gave him a gentle grin as Evan pulled him close and placed a chaste kiss against his cheek. The older buried his face in his husband’s shoulder, eyes shut tight. Evan himself couldn’t stop his own shaky sigh as he rubbed Jonathan’s back soothingly, staring out the window and into the yard. He thought he saw Tyler standing by the edge of the lawn, hands in his pockets and his toothy grin radiant against the evening. Evan couldn’t help a sad smile as he waved at his best friend, blinking just to find nothing there.

 

“Come on, Jon. Let’s go to bed.”

 

The other just gently nodded against his shoulder, before pulling away and rubbing at his blue eyes. Jonathan took in Evan’s state and smiled softly, grabbing ahold of his hand and squeezing tight.

 

“I promise I’ll find the man, Evan.”

 

“Promise?” the younger ask as Jonathan took his pointer finger and traced a cross over his heart.

 

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

* * *

 

Jonathan remembered staying up into the late, hot nights, sweating bullets in the old warehouse and hunching over books that scattered throughout the aged room. Ryan nearly climbed out of the window, desperately fanning himself and complaining about the heavy California heat, whilst Luke chuckled and simply wore a muscle shirt to keep himself from overheating. Craig was just as bad as Ryan, both either hanging out the window or whining about needing a fan in the room.

 

“What’s the temperature?” groaned the British man, slouched in his seat with his shirt unbuttoned.

 

“Heard on the radio it was going up around the 90s.” answered Luke from across the room, wiping the sweat from his forehead and continuing to read through a heavy old book. Jonathan sipped slowly on his cold Coke, letting it sizzle in his mouth. Placing the glass bottle back on the table, he looked up just in time to see Ryan stand up and stretch his arms above his head, fanning himself with a book before putting it back down.

 

“I’ll be right back, gotta take a leak. Don’t go into a decline because of me, Luke!”

 

“Whatever,  _ pally _ .” the older replied without looking up, earning an eye roll from Ryan as he exited the room. Jonathan could hear him go down the metal stairs, the heels of his shoes echoing throughout the empty warehouse. Craig hummed a small tune under his breath as he skimmed over a book, groaning and slamming his head onto the table. The ex-detective couldn’t help a chuckle at the younger’s actions, trying to hide his grin behind the book Evan had found weeks ago in the library. Craig threw him a small glare, before Jonathan went back to reading.

 

“Water, 35 liters, carbon, 20 kilograms, ammonia, 4 liters. . what the hell is this for?”

 

“Beats me. Craig, got any idea wha-”

 

Luke was cut off by a cry of pain coming from downstairs, the voice echoing throughout the building as the three men jumped up and rushed out the door. Jonathan leaned over the railing as Luke and Craig rushed down, scanning the area and catching sight of a young boy, no more than 12 years old, running to the entrance they used, gripping something tightly in his hand. The older man couldn’t quite make out his features as the boy stopped and turned to them, except for those blueish-purple eyes, glowing in the dark as they nearly pierced his soul.

 

From below him, Ryan sat on the ground, groaning and holding his head, blood seeping from between his fingers. Luke was careful to avoid the sharp pieces of glass littered around his partner. Opening a single eye, Ryan hissed through his teeth, blood caked finger pointing at the boy who stood motionless in the middle of the building.

 

“H-He. . he has it. . Jon. . he’s got my notebook. . !”

 

The giggle that echoed the room had a chill running down Jonathan’s spine as he pushed himself away from the railing and ran down after the boy, Luke hot on his heels as he yelled back at Craig to take care of Ryan. The boy blew a raspberry at them before quickly slipping through the entrance, sprinting down the street filled with empty buildings, with 2 grown men right behind him. His laughter echoed through the alleyway he took, making Luke groan as his dress shoes dug into his ankles. Jonathan kept a close eye on the strawberry-blonde boy ahead of them, running like he was made for it. 

 

“Goddammit kid, get back here! You’ll be in big trouble for stealing from officers!” Luke yelled, watching as the boy turned a corner and disappear from their view. As the two men got to the street corner, Luke stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes went wide.

 

[ **(Hit the Road Jack (Wolfgang Logr & Maskarade Remix))** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPmD6hFaomk)

 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

 

Before them stood a large carnival, the overwhelming smell of junk food and laughter hitting them like a tsunami. Jonathan panted as he tried to catch his breath, feeling sweat drip down his neck as blue eyes scanned the large area desperately. Luke pulled on his shirt as he pointed somewhere to the right, brown eyes locked onto whatever he was following.

 

“There, beside the High Striker! Come on!”

 

Jonathan barely had any time to react before the older man was pulling him towards the rigged game, barely catching sight of the young boy who seemed to slip by everyone so easily. He felt trapped, wheezing for air as he shoved past the large clusters of people. He couldn’t help but mumble out ‘sorry’ any time he’d hit someone too hard, throwing them a nervous smile before running right behind Luke. Jonathan watched as the kid slipped through the circus tent and into a show, cheers and whistles coming from inside. 

 

As both men ran through the heavy circus carpet, they spotted the young boy standing in the middle of the bleachers, sending mocking faces their way and pissing Luke off. Jonathan grabbed the other’s shoulder and looked at him, eyes switching between the older man and the boy who continued blowing raspberries at them.

 

“You go after him, I’ll go through the dressing rooms and cut him off when he goes around.”

 

“How do you know he’ll go that way?”

 

“I don’t, but I’m not about to just wait around for the kid to turn himself in!” with that, Jonathan ran the opposite way, leaving Luke to after the boy. He cursed silently as he squeezed past people, getting recognized more than he wanted to be.

 

“Hey, isn’t that Detective Smith?”

 

“The one that was taught by Mr. Sark? Yeah. . yeah that is him!”

 

“Hey look, it’s Detective Smith!”

 

Jonathan moved even quicker through the crowd as more and more people seemed to recognize him, their voice too loud and demanding for him. He felt himself sweating harder under the intense gaze of the people, feet moving as fast as they possibly could. Finally, he was able to free himself from the crowd and quickly ran through the dressing rooms, looking around wildly for Luke’s shadow. He was screamed at more than once by the performers as he ran through, cringing at the shrieks made by ladies in shorts skirts and way too much eyeshadow.

 

Just as he neared the edge of the dressing rooms, he finally caught sight of two figures moving outside the tent, Luke’s angry and tired voice reaching his ears as he couldn’t help but let out a small, tired chuckle.

  
“Little shit, give that back!”

 

Jonathan pushed himself harder, legs aching and lungs burning as he ran as fast as he possibly could. Just as the boy neared him, he jumped through the heavy tent and managed to tackle the kid to the ground, rolling a few times as the boy yelled and struggled under him.

 

“LAPD, stop moving! Sto-”

 

The blue-eyed man froze as he finally took a good look at the boy. Strawberry-blonde hair was slicked back neatly, dark blue eyes staring back at him with a burning anger in them, His pale skin was soft to the touch, and the kid looked underweight overall. He looked like a weakling, someone who wouldn’t be able to fight back a policeman, more specifically, two.

 

He proved Jonathan wrong when he brought one hand up and shoved the man back hard, before kicking him straight in the face with nearly inhuman strength. Jonathan groaned as he fell back, holding his nose tightly and curling up in pain as it swept throughout his whole body. He heard as Luke yelped loudly before he hit the floor, joining the younger man on the ground in pain.

 

“B-Bryce wait-”

 

As he struggled to open his eyes, he watched the young boy flick them off before running away, but not before throwing the notebook carelessly at them and leaving both grown men to suffer in pain. Luke struggled to sit on his knees, panting and covering his left eye as they both fell silent.

 

“Did. . did the little shit just really kick our asses?”

 

“Shut up, Luke.” Jonathan groaned, sitting up and holding his heavily bleeding nose. Luke coughed as he rubbed the base of his throat, swallowing hard to try and relive some of the raspiness in his throat. Jonathan spit blood to the side as he kept holding his nose, white dress shirt stained as well as pale skin. Struggling to get up, Luke shuffled over to the notebook and picked it up, gently brushing it off before noticing it was open.

 

“Luke-” Jon started, stumbling a bit as his head pounded. Luke cursed loudly before looking in the direction Bryce had run, eyes sharp as he started walking that way.

 

“Kid stole some of the pages, Jon. We need to get them back, or-”

 

“Calm down! Luke, did you not see what he had on the back of his hand?”

 

When he shook his head, the blue-eyed man sighed and shook his head, starting to walk away from Luke. As the older man slowly followed him, he wiped the now drying blood from his face and sniffed, wincing a bit at the pain that shot up his forehead.

 

"You looked like you knew him." The bearded man asked as Jonathan tipped his head back just a bit and looked up at the golden, afternoon sky. 

 

“The kid’s name is Bryce McQuaid, no older than 12 years old, and lived in an orphanage with another kid named Joe. I know for a fact Joe wouldn’t be involved, since he recently got adopted, but Bryce. . I always thought there was something off with that kid. .”

 

Luke threw him a side look as they took the long route around the carnival, getting quite a couple of looks from others as they watched both men walk down the bustling street. Luke was too busy flipping through the pages of the notebook to really care, trying to figure out which pages were missing. He could see clearly where the paper was torn, small writing covering the edges from the sentences that used to exist. 

 

“You mentioned something about this kid’s hand. What did you see?”

 

“I don’t really know how to describe it. It was like. . a dragon eating its own tail. Almost like a tattoo on the back of his hand.” Jonathan whispered, as he slowly lowered his head, making sure to stick close to Luke and keep a look out for anyone and everyone passing them. At one point, he thought he heard the shutter of a camera down in an alleyway, the light catching his eyes. As he stopped at the end of the alleyway, he stood completely still, letting everyone else move past him and Luke walk ahead. When he heard nothing move, he shrugged it off as his imagination, jogging a bit to catch up to the older man.

 

After a few minutes, when they finally reached the old factories, Luke almost immediately ran to the building with their “secret” office, kneeling in front of Ryan who sat outside on some bricks. Craig stood beside him, looking up and meeting Jonathan’s gaze as he neared them. When Craig gave him a thumbs up, Jonathan sighed in relief as he took a look at the hazel eyed man with a handkerchief pressed against his forehead. 

 

“Did you guys get him?”

 

“Uh. . actually-”

 

“We got our asses kicked by a 12 year old boy.” Jonathan deadpanned, wrinkling his nose slightly and wincing at the pain.

 

Luke threw a glare at Jonathan as he shrugged, listening to Craig desperately trying to hold back his laughter. Ryan gave Luke a small grin, before looking down at his lap. Luke placed the worn out book on his lap, causing the hazel eyed man to smile widely up at his partner, but his smile slowly fell at the defeated look on the Luke's face.

 

“What’s wrong, Patterson? Did something else happen?”

 

“He uh. . when he threw it back at us, I noticed it was open, and when I looked inside, I saw there were some pages missing.”

 

Ryan’s eyes went wide as the handkerchief fell from his hand and onto the dirt below. He quickly opened the notebook and flipped through the everything, hands shaking as he came to a stop at a certain page. His shoulder fell as his mouth moved, trying to find his voice as Luke placed a hand over the other’s, squeezing it as Ryan held onto it with all his might.

 

“He. . the pages. . it has the names of everyone we’ve interviewed and encountered. . God, I knew it was a bad idea to keep them there, fuck, Patterson I-I'm. .” Luke hushed him with a gentle kiss to his knuckles as the younger swallowed the nervous lump in his throat.

 

Ryan turned to look at Jonathan with regret swimming in his pretty eyes.  The blue eyed man felt sick to the stomach as he turned to look at the ground, a deep chill settling on his chest as a heavy atmosphere fell upon all of them. Taking a deep breath in and digging his nails into his palm, Jonathan stood straight up and looked at the three men before him, blood still covering his face and staining his white button down. Dirt stuck to his face and covered his pants, hands sticky with his own blood.

 

“They might know how to hurt us, hell, they  _ know  _ how to find us, but we’re not going to let that stop us. I. . I might know someone who can help us, and I know he’ll refuse to tell us anything, but we need to try. He’s our only hope left.”

 

“Who is it Jonathan?” Ryan whispered as the younger’s eyes met his.

 

“Sark.”

* * *

 

“Couldn’t you have given me a harder mission, Father? Even a mortal could have carried this out!” the young boy whined, crossing his arms over his chest as the older man sitting on the throne merely glanced up at him and glared. The boy quickly shut up as he himself threw a glare at a taller male beside him, deep chuckle echoing throughout the room.

 

“Shut it, Pride. At least I don’t sit on my ass all day.”

 

“For your information,  _ Greed _ , I help Father even more than you do. After all, you’re stuck in the body of a 12 year old boy.” Pride replied, glowing brown eyes burning a hole through his ‘younger brother’. Greed glared back and turned to face him, knees bending as he got into a fighting stance.

 

“Just so you know, this 12 year old boy can kick your ass without even  _ trying _ .”

 

“Oh yeah? Let’s see about that.”

 

With a yell, Greed rushed forward, jumping high into the air and throwing a punch. From where Pride stood, he simply grinned, and suddenly, large shadows emerged from his own, catching the young boy halfway through the air. The purple eyed boy grunted as the long shadows wrapped tightly around him, squeezing his body as he struggled to slip out.

 

“Let me go, you asshole!”

 

“Watch your potty mouth, Greed. You don’t want to get punished now, do you?”

 

Greed cried out as he was squeezed even tighter, eyes wide and teeth clenched as he felt his human body ache. Pride’s grin grew wider as the shadows emitting from him brought the younger closer, honey-coloured eyes staring deep into the other’s as a sickening giggle left him. He slowly licked his lips as a much larger shadow slowly began forming behind him, causing Greed to begin struggling more.

 

“You goddamn, dirty son of-”

 

“That’s  **_enough_ ** .”

 

The roaring voice had both males turning towards a dark tunnel, electric baby blue eyes staring at them from the shadows. With a heavy sigh, Pride retreated his shadows and let Greed drop to the ground with a thud, causing the much younger to yelp and glare up at him.

 

“You two just don’t know how to control yourselves, do you? Here you are, standing in front of the most powerful man, and yet, you decide to bicker like children. Pathetic.”

 

“I’d watch where you’re standing, Wrath. Pride doesn’t like that kind of language.” a mocking voice came from the entrance of the room. Turning, they watched a tall man with glowing green eyes walking towards them, followed by a man with almost bleached like blonde hair beside him, heavy black under his glowing heterochronic eyes. The taller man threw a grin at Pride, who rolled his eyes so far back, the other thought they’d stay like that. 

 

“Gluttony, can I go back? I really just want to sleep.” the man with different coloured eyes complained, earning an annoyed sigh from Greed.    


 

“Sloth, you have  _ literally  _ been sleeping all day while the rest of us help Father. Learn a thing or two and actually move your ass.” the boy complained, crossing his arms as Sloth gave him a tired look. Quietly, Wrath walked into the light with the rest of his ‘siblings’, easily towering over the 4 and looking down at them with electric blue eyes that stored silent rage in them. Pride merely glanced at him, before straightening his shoulders and smoothing out his cotton button-up, already cleaner and smoother than it should be.

 

Without a glance at the 5 people, the Father spoke whilst looking at the pages Greed brought to him, eyes scanning the pages with a sickening joy in them.

 

“Greed.”

 

“Yes Father?” he asked without hesitation, putting his hands behind his back as the man with pale blue eyes looked up at him, dirty blonde hair brushed back with a few simply strands grazing his face. The younger slightly coward, eyes cast downward as he swallowed a nervous lump forming in his throat.

 

“These pages have proven more useful than I believed. Not only that, your strategy went according to plan.”

 

“I would never fail you Father, especially to some weak mortals like those detectives.” Greed replied, looking up at his father with mischief clear in his eyes He turned his attention towards Wrath, who cleared his throat before speaking.

 

“Father, you and I both know those detectives are far from weak, although mortals. Jonathan, especially, has a. . gift, which I haven’t been able to figure out just yet.”

 

Father hummed in agreement as his eyes scanned over the names scribbled over the pages, crossing out a few with an ink pen Pride had offered. Staring at a single name, he turned to look at everyone else, a smile slowly making its way to his chapped lips.

 

“Gluttony, I have a task for you.”

 

Gluttony looked up at the man, who’s pale blue eyes suddenly turned into a dark blood red, glinting in the small bit of light that came in from high above, the chatter of people and tweets of birds reaching his ears.

 

“Go get Lust. You know where to find him.”

 

With a silent nod, Gluttony turned on his heel and headed out the door.


End file.
